


Life Singer

by Dawnblade_2015



Series: Court of thorns [3]
Category: Hellboy (Movies 2004-2008), Irish Mythology, Labyrinth (1986), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 49
Words: 108,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23216128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnblade_2015/pseuds/Dawnblade_2015
Summary: Life singers, beings who can sing life from dust, heal wounds with a note, or sing one into the arms of a peaceful death. When one meets our favorite angsty elf, a lesson that not all humans are of hollow heart may follow...Post-golden army
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams, Nuada (Hellboy)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Court of thorns [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670974
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Second Exile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life Singer was the first of the series I wrote, over ten years ago...so events are subject to change once fully posted

_Hours after the defeat of the golden army..._

The angel of death seemed pleased with what he/she saw, as a body formed from a pile of ash. Milk-white skin marked with scars, white-blond hair forming around strong shoulders. He/she turned to look at the alabaster figure that lay near the entrance to the chamber, the bargain made with her was simple their link for her brother's life. He/she knelt beside Nuada and whispered into his ear...

"Live..."

A gasping breath echoed and a heartbeat filled the chamber, sounding like drums...

_The Goblin Kingdom, four months later..._

Nuada Silverlance took a halting and painful breath. He remembered dying, falling to ash as his sister froze to alabaster. He felt panic before registering he was on his back upon something soft. He turned his head, opening his eyes onto darkness. A gentle hand touched his forehead, brushing away a few strands of his hair from his face. He spoke the only thing that came to his lips…

"Nuala..."

There was no answer, the hand withdrew. He reached out through the link he remembered being there, only emptiness and silence answered him.

"Nuala..." He sobbed, carrying as much sorrow as that moment in the chamber.

The hand again, and a soft voice. "Shush...

He turned his head toward the voice, his eyes only seeing darkness. He tried to reach up to touch his face, the hand caught his.

"No, don't..."

He began to tremble, realizing he didn't know where he was or if that voice belonged to a human. He let out a wail of despair and anguish that caused the healer beside him to send him back into the void of sleep.

_Council Chambers, Royal palace of Bathmora..._

The goblin king stood before the High Council, waiting for their verdict upon his "guest" now sequestered in one of the rooms in his palace. The council's first action had been to strip the unfortunate prince of his royal title and status though leaving him a noble of Bathmora. This he personally agreed with, as Nuada had been a fool to try to carry out his plans without understanding that he did not need the army, only patients. A good portion of humanity would wipe itself out, and those smart enough not to would no doubt willingly concede once again to the treaty.

The council's second verdict was to have the still unconscious fey lord blinded. This he did not agree with, as it had been done out of spite by the new High King. As in ancient human days, Fey kings had to be whole. Blinding Nuada ensured he would never be whole to challenge him for the throne. The head of the Council called his name.

"...Jareth, King of goblins..."

He stepped forward, wishing dearly he could have had Sara's insight upon this matter. He bowed with his usual flamboyance.

"...We have decided to leave the prisoner, Lord Silverlance, as your guest with all the trappings due a noble of Bathmora." The council head spoke. "...You may have his caretakers be any being you wish as I doubt he'd even know if they were human or Fey..."

Jareth pondered that, for one who hated humans so, to be cared for by one. If it was one thing fate took delight in, it was irony.

"...It would be an honor..." Jareth said with all the courteous tone he could muster.

The tap of the gavel and the council ended.

_Two days later, Place of the goblin king..._

Jareth paced back and forth, looking now and again at Sarah as she tended their child. Once upon a time, he would have shared Nuada's views about humans, but having known Sarah he knew there were still a few who remembered that "we are of one blood, ye and I" as Kipling so eloquently put it. To find one who would willingly give up life "above" to be caretaker and perhaps consort to a sundered prince.

"...Sit down dear," Sarah said softly, though she could easily show off a fiery temper. "you won't solve this by force..."

He turned and sighed, taking a seat upon the edge of the bed. She was right, he had considered making the next human who failed the maze be Nuada's caretaker.

"...I cannot think of any who would come..." He said. "And to use the test in such a way..."

Sara looked down at their child, bright mismatched eyes looking up at her. She remembered the woman who had attended her labor.

"Do you think the healer who attended me would come?"

He turned to Sarah, the birth of their child had been difficult and no fey would trust a human midwife to touch their queen. The healer had been a rare find, with a rare gift.

"Do you think one of her kind would come, the life-singers long ago withdrew from the conflict between humans and Fey...They would have to give permission for her to travel beyond the market."

Sara remembered they had been fortunate to have gained safe passage the last time for the young healer.

"The simplest is to ask..." Sarah said. "Her name was Pen, I believe...she did not live far from the market..."

Jareth nodded, he had arrangements to make with both the healer's guild and the Singers council.


	2. Come to the market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pen Is called to the New York Goblin market...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In her human life, Pen used the Name Pen O'Hara...

_A Dojo somewhere in New York..._

A young woman goes through Sword katas. Her movements are not those of any known martial art or derivative. The patterns are ancient and from another place and time. Whirling swords with hearts of cold iron coated in Mithril silver, deadly as to even make the wind bleed. A man balding man in a bad suit and tie watches, trying to get the young woman to listen to his offer.

"...Ms. O'hara, I do not know why you won't take up the B.P.R.D.'s offer." He said, watching her slice through a large bamboo pole. "We could use your talents...you would have assistants...and would only be behind..."

One of those deadly blades was at the knot of his tie, eyes as green as the hills in Ireland burn holes into him.

"...Listen, Myers, or whatever your name is, my answer is no...My skills or gifts are not for sale, to anyone..."

He gulped, scraping his Adam's apple along the tip

"But..."

"But nothing, now get the hell out of my Dojo..."

The blade twisted and split the knot, making the tie fall to the floor. Myers gulped again before turning and trying not to flee from the room, near forgetting his shoes.

Seeing him gone, "O'Hara" held both blades in one hand while the other rubbed across the back of her neck. This had been the fifth time in as many weeks that the B.P.R.D. had tried to recruit her. After what she'd heard through her contacts in both the human world and among the Fey they were trouble. She knew it in her bones when she heard of the Forest God dying.

"...We are of one blood..." She whispered a phrase she'd heard her Elvish teachers were fond of using. "How I wish more humans understood that..."

There were times she hated being human, with how hollow-hearted humanity had become...how much had been forgotten.

She turned her attention to cleaning her blades, it had been drilled into her enough. She paused as she always did, remembering the man who had taught her to weld them a decade ago.

"How brief love..." She said, "I still miss you, my beloved..."

She missed the man who had trained her, even though he'd vanished one night. He returned just as suddenly when she found herself pregnant shortly after his first departure.

He vanished again, months later, with their child. That had been nigh ten years ago when she first made a life for herself outside of the enclave.

"The past is the past..." She said returning to her blades. "And today shapes the future..."

She looked down the length of the blade in her hand. These blades were Fey Killers, the exclusive weapons of The Royal Guard of Bathmora.

She cleaned them carefully, remembering standing at the forge as they were made for her. A gift from King Balor for singing for the birthday of his daughter, Nuala. It had been sad news to hear of the Old King's death at the hands of his own son. She had heard much since then, including the tale of the army.

"...A foolish endeavor by a foolish prince..." She said. "Patients would have served better..."

She looked at her distorted reflection in the blade, how unlike her elvish counterparts was she. She sighed and turned her thoughts to what would come in the next few days.

She was near finished cleaning her blades when she heard footsteps behind her, she'd closed the Dojo for the day to collect herself before heading to the Enclave for Samhain to sing for minor Fey Nobility. She enjoyed the attention to an extent but usually withdrew into the forest for days afterward. She turned, not looking from her blade, half expecting another human before her.

"The Dojo is closed," She said, finally looking up. "And I don't give..."

She was surprised to see a short, stubby man standing there, his hand out. In it was a small round disk of Mithril. She tightened her grip on her sword before the man spoke.

"Healer come...Troll Market, Goblin Market..."

She was a bit puzzled, it was usually one of the more human-looking fey would come and request or one of her order would send word.

"For who..."

"Be told when, come to market..."

She did not like this, as she was often told beforehand who and what she was being called for.< /p>

"Who shall I meet there?"

"Golden orb, speak to the innkeeper, be told from there..."

She frowned. "Safe passage?"

The stubby man placed the sliver disk in her hand, she knew the crest upon it.

"Goblins..."

"Come to the market..."

"I will come...when..."

"Thirteenth hour..." The man said and scuttled into the shadows, gone.

She shook her head, "I do hope this isn't a noble trying to claim me for his household again, I should have put the last bastard's head on a pike as a warning..."

She headed up to her apartments above the Dojo.

_Meanwhile in the Goblin Kingdom..._

Sarah watched Jareth pace back and forth. The decision to summon the young healer to the market had been mutual, but Sarah's going alone had been hers. He could understand that it would be better if she said she was consulting a healer in preparation for another child rather than to come to treat a broken man, but he was very protective of his Queen.

"...She did not say no." Sarah said. "If both guilds agree, it will be her choice to take the contract." He would have rather damned the Guilds and sent goblins to acquire the young healer. It had been Sarah's reminder that they wanted the young woman there by choice rather than force.

"Let me send guards with you, the market in New York is not a safe place." He said. "Especially after the incident with the troll..."

"I will be safe enough." She said. "Do not worry beloved, I will not leave the tavern and I can summon Ludo or Hoggel if I need help."

He frowned, he knew enough that Sarah could defend herself. He'd seen to that personally shortly after their marriage. Even knowing this, he was not comfortable with letting his queen out of his sight, even for the few brief hours it would take to request permission from the guilds.

"...It will only be a few hours of mortal time." Sarah said. "We have forever..."

He smiled, pausing in his pacing. "...It's only forever, not long at all."

She came up and kissed his cheek, "...I will return with the healer, just make sure there is someone here for her to heal..."

Jareth nodded, he would do his best to keep Nuada at least confined. Sara turned and slid out the door, leaving him to see to their "guest".


	3. Preparations and madness

Pen set her blades down reverently upon the table to the right of her door, and the rest of her gear to the left before closing it. She frowned before going over to the small altar beside her television. It was simple, with only two orbs of stone; obsidian for the lady and Green malachite for the lord. A small blade of bone lay beside a wooden disk with a small silver chalice setting to the other side. She touched each reverently as she thought of what could lay ahead.

"...I am being called once more..." She whispered. "One of your first children is ailing and summons me. Let me be the crystal note that brings healing..."

She sang a soft note, and then another until she'd sung through a musical scale unheard by humans for a thousand years.

"...We remember the pact." She said, letting out a breath. "For we are of one blood..."

She touched each reverently once more before turning toward her bedroom and a shower.

She opened her closet, pushing aside the mundane trappings until her fingers touched Fey silk and well-tooled leather. The singers had not always been healers, their clothing reflected this. She pulled the underpinnings of her robes slowly from the mass of her human clothes. She reverently laid the silk on the bed. The leather bodice when on a stand near her bed. She inspected laces and seams before turning to pull a Gray on Gray cloak with a suggestion of Dragon scales in the gray threads. The final item was a pair of high boots with the patterns of leaves and vines in the tooling.

After inspecting each for tears, rips or any other repair, she turned her attention to taking her shower. It did not do well to smell of sweat and steel, it attracted attention she did not want. She turned on the filter that took most of the man-made chemicals from the water. She'd paid a small fortune for it, as she wanted the water as clean as possible.

She let the water run while she chose a handmade soap from the assortment on the shelf. She chose one that spoke of forest and meadow. Her shampoo was likewise handmade and carried the same scent. She did not wish to offend her hosts by smelling like a "human" in their presence. The shower was quickly taken, as fey time was much different from human and she'd still have to get to the bridge to enter into the market.

With her hair wrapped in a towel, she began her transformation. The silk tunic and trousers whispered as she slid them on, a song she had near forgotten in the last year. A riding skirt followed her trousers, the divided folds hiding her legs. She pulled the bodice over the tunic and began lacing herself in. It was not her favorite part of her robes, she'd rather have worn a bra than the tight-laced garment. She inhaled to make the laces a bit tighter, reminding herself she'd have to breathe to sing. Her boots followed, trousers tucked into them as the hem of the riding skirt brushed the tops.

She then turned to her hair, long, dark tresses tied up in hair sticks and a gray leather barrette tooled with a Celtic knot. She took a few deep breaths before looking into the full-length mirror. A woman who would have fit well among any Fey court starred back, save she was not milk pale and her hair was not as pale as her skin. Few would have noticed this or the fact hers did not come to a graceful point as the cloak she pulled around her shoulders bore the seal of the Singer's guild. All that was left was to secret her weapons upon her person along with the few healing potions she carried.

_Nuada's room, The goblin palace..._

The broken prince spoke little save to call his sister's name. He was driving himself mad with a truth his rational mind easily accepted; Nuala was gone, their bond sundered by fate. He had pushed the healers away, claiming he could care for himself. Twice he'd cut his hands open punching a reflection he could not see. He'd taken to drinking, easy enough to do as a servant filled the cup as soon as he set it down. He'd torn the room apart, demanding to be taken to his sister, afterward he'd curl up and sob...softly whispering her name...

_Brooklyn Bridge, New York..._

It was well past midnight when Pen set foot at the base of the bridge. She watched as the taxi sped off, the driver probably thinking her one of the Crazy people to be out in the dead of night despite how well she'd paid to be taken here. She shook her head and headed into the portal that led into the tunnels and to the great doors of the market.

She paused only long enough to notice some smart ass has scrawled above the portal in Quinna, Sindarin, and Fey common. "Say friend and enter." It lightened her mood a bit to see that some of the Fey did not take themselves seriously.

"Mellon..." She said in Sindarin before heading toward the great iron doors.

She spoke words in Fey common and listened to the locks click open and the heavy door slid away to reveal the market within. She stepped in, pulling up her hood, better to hide that she was human. Despite her safe passage it was not a good idea to advertise she was human, not after the Prince's promises to cleanse the world of her kind.

She dodged among the crowd, a myriad of languages filled her ears. She kept a sharp eye out, though she doubted any would raise a hand toward her.

"...The Golden orb..." She said softly to herself. "...It should be near the other taverns..."

She made her way down the tunnel that leads to the taverns, hoping this was not a trap.


	4. Within the market

_The Goblin palace..._

Jareth threw his hands up in frustration, his "guest" had again thrown the healers out of his rooms and the sounds of destruction were clear. He wished with all his goblin heart that he could make Nuada understand that his sister and his sight would not return. It worried him, this fixation upon a single being.

"...They were close, your Majesty, closer than twins have a right to be...Balor separated them young." The healer said.

"His fixation is unnatural, even among Royalty," Jareth said as he heard an expensive mirror shatter. "If the bond was close, why does he live..."

"We do not know, one of the priestess' suggested that living was his punishment..." The healer said. "For one to have been so close, I could see where living would be a punishment to the other..."

The sound of glass shattering and a rush of healers past them.

"He smashed the window in his chamber..." Said a junior healer as he passed them. "There is glass everywhere in the courtyard..."

Jareth looked at the healer and hurried behind, fearful that Nuada had done something even more foolish. Like, follow the glass into the courtyard...

_The Troll Market..._

Pen kept her head low as she continued to weave in and out of the beings around her. She heard many laments that they would never have the king they desired. She shook her head and knew the Prince had stirred up more than he knew. She paused when she heard someone mentioning the goblin kingdom...

"...Back of beyond that be." Growled a troll. "No place to send a prince of Bathmora..."

"Only he ain't a prince no more..." Said another. "His high mucky-muck stripped him down good he did, summat say even cut out his eyes he did..."

"Shame, He was a right handsome one too..." Said female who reminded Pen of the Market's version of a bag lady. "...they say he laid the nine curses on him he did, then carved him up for supper..."

The small gathering laughed.

"Hey, lookie what we have here mates..."

~Oh, Fuck me... ~Pen thought as they spotted her.

"...Looks like we have a fine lady come slumming..." Said the "bag lady". "Fine ladies have gold...give us a gold piece..."

A long wicked knife appeared from the woman's rags. The two trolls follow suite.

"Six of steel says the lady gives us a gold piece..."

Pen reached into her cloak and pulled out her blades. "I'll see your those six, scum and see you twenty more..."

The small party had not expected their target to be armed.

"Now As I see it, it would be a shame to stain the streets or call the guard..." Pen said as she held her blades at the ready. "And I doubt the guild would like a grievance filed against the market..."

Two of the market guards seemed to appear out of nowhere, The three turned and fled as Pen sheathed her blades.

That was too close... Pen thought as the guards let her pass on the emblem on her cloak.

She hurried on, not wanting to attract any more attention.

She found her way to the Golden Orb, one of the few establishments in the market that didn't really care what deals were made in its rooms as long it could be denied by both parties. She slid up to the bar and laid the disk on the soiled oak. The Barkeep looked at the disk and then at her, He made a face as he polished a glass.

"Up the stair, third room on the right..." He said. "And keep it quiet...we don't need the guard here on a complaint of noise."

She nodded and headed up the stair.

She knocked upon the door and was surprised when a human woman opened it. She looked behind her before sliding past the woman.

"It's safe to remove your hood..." The woman said.

"...Queen Sarah..." Pen said softly, recognizing the Goblin Queen. "For what do I have this honor, surely you Jareth are not planning another child so soon."

Sara sighed, closing the door and securing it.

"Singer..." Sarah said. "Forgive the subterfuge, but the patient I have called you for is an exile, and not in high favor with the present High King..."

Pen could think of quite a few who did not hold the new King's favor. She had heard of one upon her way to the tavern. Balor had been a fading king, but a good one. She could not help but wonder if the prince would have made a good king, despite his hatred for humans.

"And he is in the Labyrinth..." Pen said. "He must be a threat to the king if he places him in a place that most of the Court would swallow cold iron than set foot."

"You could say that..." Sarah said. "We will leave shortly...if the guilds give permission."

Pen nodded, turning to look out the window onto the market humming a soft tune.

_Meanwhile in the Goblin Kingdom..._

Jareth was about to pull his hair out, despite being near cut to ribbons by the shattered glass, Nuada was still demanding to see his sister. No matter what he was told, He still demanded to see Nuala.

"...Do I have to place her corpse in bed with him..." Jareth hissed stormed down the hall. "perhaps that would get it through his thick Elf skull..."

"This is the third time he's destroyed his chambers." The head healer said. "The others and I are worried he may do more harm to himself..."

"He won't be your concern much longer, A life singer is being summoned as we speak..."

The healer paled. "But your majesty, we..."

"The Singer will be his caretaker, you are to defer to her in the matters of his well-being..." Jareth said. "As soon as the Queen arrives with the Singer, you are to show her to Lord Nuada's rooms..."

"Yes, your majesty..." The healer said.

Jareth left the healer at the end of the hall.

Jareth didn't stop until he reached his chambers, slamming the door before rubbing his temples. He wondered what had possessed him to agree to the council's demand that he keep Nuada as his "guest". After a few breaths, he remembered. He'd been a young prince when the war had commenced, his father was head of the Goblin armies. By the war's end, the young prince was crowned king. Balor had asked a boon of him as the new king, though he doubted this was what the old king had in mind when he was asked to watch over the Bathmorian prince. He had fulfilled the boon, at least in spirit.

"Come home soon Sarah..." He said.

He stayed still for a few moments before a banging upon his chamber door told him kingship was calling.

_In the Golden Orb tavern..._

Sara watched Pen pace as they waited for the representatives of the Singer's guild. The Singers had tentatively agreed to allow Pen to travel to the Goblin kingdom. Pen turned to look at Sara, the Goblin queen looked as though she would rather have been home with her husband.

"...I am curious your majesty, why summon me." Pen asked. "I happen to be among the rarest of singers and a tempting jewel for any fey lord to possess among his household..."

It was true enough, many had tried to entice her into their households.

"The High Council told Jareth to choose a caretaker, I suggested you." She said. "You are uncommon among humans as you understand and remember..."

Pen nodded, but those who truly understood were few and far between. Only from having lived most of her life among the Fey gave her this insight.

"...That we are all connected, of One blood..." Pen sighed. "Yes, I am not the only one." She looked down at her boots. "...How many as I would willingly walk into the underground without a backward glance..."

"A good deal more than Fey or human would expect, but the ones like you...they would understand that it isn't just..." Sarah said. "It is a question I've asked myself a few times."

Pen smiled at the Goblin Queen, at least there was another human who had learned the lesson of how to fill the hole within their heart.

"It is good to know that there are others that ask themselves such a question." Pen said. "...What of this patient you wish me to look after."

Sarah frowned. "...He was a prince."

Pen paused, echoing her frown. She knew of only one prince who could pose that much of a threat to The High King.

"Prince Nuada..."

Sarah nodded. "Yes, but the council stripped him of that title. He is simply Lord Nuada Silverlance..."

Pen nodded. "...As much as he hates humans...it is an irony that you summon me."

"He would not know if you were human or not. The High King blinded him."

~So the rumor I heard in the market is true...~ Pen thought. ~He is broken, no wonder the Council wished a human caretaker.~

"His sister?"

Pen had to know what became of The Princess, for whom she'd sang proudly and with great honor.

"Dead, her body was interred in Bathmora," Sarah said. "With all the honors due to one of the Royal house."

Pen looked at her boots again, her fingers flexing to hold her blade. She had heard second hand about the Prince's attempt to resurrect the Army. Whoever had saved Nauda from the cold oblivion of death had chosen perhaps the most fitting punishment: to walk in the world alone and in darkness.

"...Then it is the mother's will that he has survived..." Pen said.

There was a plight knock, Sarah went to answer. The members of the guilds were outside the door.


	5. Steps out of time

_The Goblin palace, Nuada's chambers…_

The once-proud Fey prince sat in the middle of the destruction with his arms around his knees, trying to reach out through the frayed and torn connection to his twin.

"Nuala..." He sobbed as he rocked.

He was still unused to the thought he was alone, a single being at last.

Jareth stood in the doorway, shaking his head and cursing the discrepancy of mortal time with that of the underground. It would only probably be a day of mortal time, but here weeks were passing. The destruction he saw had become common in the last few days. He noticed the smears of blood upon the floor and over Nuada's arms. Long scratches from attempts to feel something other than loneliness were hidden under the crusting blood upon his guest's person. The healers were going to have their hands full trying to sedate him again.

Comparatively, this tantrum was better than what had happened over the last few nights. Wine consumed to excess to dull the pain of living while the food that would sustain him was hurled after the servants with an uncanny aim for a blind man.

"I pray the singer Comes soon," Jareth said, turning away. "Or we shall be sweeping you out with the dust."

Nuada didn't hear the Goblin king, only the empty echo of his sister's name along with the sundered link.

_The Golden Orb..._

The Guild representatives were quite cordial, giving the Goblin Queen instructions on how Pen was allowed to remain, where she was to be quartered, and what foods were to be offered. There were times when Pen felt as if her bridal dower was being negotiated rather than a contract to conduct healing. Though she suspected they knew exactly to who and where she was to be taken. Sara would look in her direction now and again while the representatives set forth their terms. She would give her a small smile, tilt her head and turn back to looking out over the goblin market. She wondered how long it would be before she set foot in it again.

_Three hours later..._

Sara finished signing the last of the agreements and contracts to take Pen from the Market and to the Goblin Kingdom. Pen fingered the hilts of her swords as she waited for them to be finished and their departure announced.

"...Is there anything from the market you need?" Sara asked, tucking away the official paperwork. "Sweets perhaps, or silk or two."

Pen shook her head. "I have all I need for some time bout my person." She frowned. "Lingering is something we should not do, not when the man you wish me to pull back from his own foolishness is slowly going mad..."

Sara nodded, donning her own cloak, leading the way out of the room.

"We will be escorted back, Ludo and Hoggle will be here shortly."

Pen nodded, she remembered the Creature Ludo and the sneaky Dwarf from her last visit.


	6. Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep

_A short hour/week later..._

Pen and Sarah arrived in the goblin kingdom. Jareth welcomed them, reserving his more personal greetings for his queen. Pen averted her eyes as they kissed.

"...Take me to him." was all she said. "I need to look him over, to see what must be healed."

The Goblin King nodded and escorted her into the place. Her eyes took in how much cleaner the castle was since the last time she'd come. It was obvious how much Sarah influenced her King, even the floor was scrubbed.

"...The healers have had to sedate him regularly. He took to harming himself." Jareth said, holding open the door to Nuada's chambers. "...Even the servants must take care around him, as he's attacked them in the past."

Pen took this in, knowing how much pain could affect perceptions.

"I am no servant..." She said softly. "He is in pain, necessary pain, but pain nonetheless."

There was no movement from within the room, only a chill that seemed to be drawn from the stones. This was not good.

Jareth nodded. "...It appears he's gone quiet for the day."

She nodded. "Leave him to me...If I need anything before nightfall I will summon one of the Goblins."

Before the Goblin King could answer, a bell sounded causing him to shake his head.

"...Another child," she said softly. "Go see to your testing, Goblin King, I will see to Nuada Silverlance."

Both King and Queen turned, leaving Pen standing in the doorway, getting her first look at the broken Fey Lord.

She quietly made her way into the room, watching Nuada as he sat curled upon himself. This was not the "brave and noble" prince she'd heard stories of from her teachers, nor the "misguided fool" who sought to steal what time and patients would willingly give him. He was just a broken man, alone and in darkness. Now she would probably add to his misery once he realized she was human. She got close enough to see how gaunt he'd become from what amounted to self-imposed starvation.

"Lord Silverlance." She said as she reached out to touch him. "His Majesty Jareth has summoned me to be your caretaker."

He slowly turned his head, bandages still covered his eyes. The wounds had not healed, no doubt due to some enchantment by the High King and as a reminder of just how far he'd fallen. Without his Lordly title, he would have been turned out into the streets to beg and that would have meant his death. Someone wanted him to live with his misery. She watched as he unfolded himself, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders fell to the stones.

He only wore loose silk pants that had seen better days, now tattered and stained. His hand reached out to touch her face, she let him find out who stood next to him. The touch was slightly intrusive as his hand moved lower to identify gender. She could see he was thin, but Elven Males tended to be more slender than their human counterparts. He was thin even for an elf, he couldn't have weighed more than nine stone. A healthy male elf usually weighted between twelve and fourteen stone. She caught his hand, not wanting him to wander further. His hand returned to cup her face, his bandaged eyes focused upon her.

"...You need to eat something." She said, feeling his hand tremble. "You're losing weight..."

His face followed his hand, his lips close to hers. She could smell some intoxicant upon his breath, he'd been drinking his dinner for a while now.

"...Nuala..." He whispered, his lips drew closer "Why didn't you come, where have you been...I've been so alone."

She felt him trembling, he thought her his sister.

"Why can't I see you, why is it so dark..."

She reached up to touch the bandages, he pulled away as if pained by her touch.

"Your sight is gone, Nuala is gone..." She said, pulling her hand away. "I am Pen, your caretaker and I won't let you drown in your pain anymore...Nuada."

She could see his breathing hitch, near sobbing. How long had it been for him to have a woman touch him or speak his name? He sank to his knees, she went with him. His head fell to her shoulder, his body shaking.

"Please...dear sister, it's so dark..." He whispered. "I am so cold..."

Perhaps he was unaware of her, only that another being was touching him. She began a soft lullaby, learned at the enclave from one of her Elvish teachers.

She could feel the Frayed ends of the bond as she sang, shooting off blue sparks like a broken electrical wire. It was too dangerous to seal them off now in his grief. The sore spots in his stomach from strong drink and no food flared like little fires to her inner vision, well on their way to becoming tears in the lining. She would have to get him to eat if his body was to heal outside of her skill.

"...The link is broken, she is gone." She whispered as she finished. "...You live by the mother's grace...I won't let you drown..."

His arms came around her waist, she felt him sob harder.

She wrapped her cloak around him, feeling him shake in sorrow. Perhaps it was more than sorrow that made him tremble, as it seemed he'd chased out the servants who tended the fire. It was days cold and the room seemed to be freezing.

"...Cold, so cold without her...Please I don't want to live without her..."

For a moment he was lucid, knowing that it was not his sister who held him.

"Shush..." She said rocking him and began singing again.

It was some time before his sobbing stopped and his body sagged against her in sleep.

_A short time later…_

Sarah came in with a child no more than Eight, wide-eyed and frightened. This was the child the bell had tolled for, Pen guessed a few hours ago. Time had no meaning while she sang, nor did much else.

"...We heard you singing." Sara said softly. "...I see you got our "guest" to get some sleep."

She nodded. "...This is the little one wished away?"

Sara nodded. "By his father..."

The boy seemed overwhelmed, and frightened.

"Showing him the castle?" Pen asked.

Nuada stirred, sensing others in the room. Pen stroked his head and murmured for him to go back to sleep, his arms tightened around her slightly.

The boy stepped closer to Sarah.

"It's ok, she won't hurt you..." Sara said. "Pen is a friend.

Pen pulled back her cloak just enough to expose Nuada's face. Her fingers pushed back his sun-kissed sliver hair, inevitably revealing his pointed ear.

"Legolas..." The boy squealed.

Pen cringed, saddened that a charter in a story was all most knew of elves or the otherworld.

"Shush...He's a real elf and not feeling well." She said softly, pulling her cloak back over him. "...He needs to sleep..."

The boy nodded, looking around the room at the recently repaired room, but it was clear he did not believe her. Sara noticed Pen's discomfort.

"I came to see if you needed anything..." Sara said. "No doubt you've not noticed much save your charge."

Pen nodded, touching Nuada now and again.

"A fire would be nice...he's freezing." She said. "And some hot food"

Sarah nodded, taking the boy away before he could get close to Pen.

A fire was quickly built by two Elves, who looked at her with a bit of surprise. She stroked Nuada's hair, he groaned softly.

"Shush, go back to sleep...its ok..."

He let out another groan, this one sharper. "Nuala..."

She heard his sadness, and his arms tightened around her. He was having a nightmare.

"Shush, it's just a dream..." She whispered. "You will be warm soon..."

The fire was soon blazing, driving the chill from the room. One of the elves took up a position beside the door, the other was busy doing something by the fire. She put a hand on one of her swords, sliding it into easy reach, not trusting anyone beyond Jareth and Sarah. At least they would be honest about their dislike of having Nuada in the palace.

The other elf moved over to his comrade and began talking to him. He was speaking in Quinna, thinking her some human Jareth had kidnapped to look after the fey lord. She began humming a soft tune, to many it would look like she was humming a lullaby. She watched their auras shift, in annoyance but nothing more. The whole of their conversation was about being stuck in the Goblin kingdom because their liege lord pissed off the high king. She would have let out a laugh if it wouldn't have given her away.

"At least you are not the only one who pissed off the High King.." She whispered softly.

The elves did not stay long after their brief conversation.

Jareth brought the food himself, wanting to look in on his "guest" though prisoner would have suited better. Pen's motion to be quiet surprised him, but seeing Nuada laying upon the stone covered in Pen's cloak was a scene he'd never expected to see.

"...You got him to sleep." He said softly. "You've done better in a few hours than the healers in the last few months."

"Yes, when he wakes I'll get him to eat...though his head is going to kill him." She said as she rose from kneeling beside Nuada.

He chuckled softly. "...Most fey don't get hangovers from Fey wine."

"He wasn't drinking Fey wine last night, it was goblin beer..."

He looked at her, then frowned. "Then he'll wish he were dead..."

"You have experience with the intoxicant?"

"More than I wish I did..." He said. "I will have fresh clothes for him by morning if you can get him into a bath."

"After the food." She said.

He set the tray on the table, shaking his head as the great clock in the center of the city bonged ten.

"...The testing is almost done, the poor bastard hasn't even gotten to the helping hands yet." He sighed. "I have to tell the council there is another child up for adoption..."

She laid a hand on Jareth's shoulder. "...I would recommend being careful in this Goblin King, a child that age will remember his former life."

He sighed. "...The spells will hold, they have to...Children are so rare..."

She knew why people were forgetting and believing less and less in the old ways.

"Rare is the child who remembers the elder's wisdom..." She said. "Rare is the elder who remembers the child's wonder..."

"...You are a rare one." Jareth said.

She smiled. "I was very young when the Guild found me...and the mother granted me wisdom along with my gift..."

Nuada began to stir, shifting and moaning.

"I will leave you to your charge, and clean clothes will come with breakfast."

She nodded and turned to where Nuada was lifting himself stiffly from the stone floor.


	7. Hiding in plane sight

Left alone once again with her charge, Pen again took the chance to look over Nuada. He was groaning. The predicted hangover full upon him.

  
"Do you need a basin?" She asked quietly, knowing his bones would rattle at any volume.

  
He made a sound, which she took for a yes and got him to his feet. The privy was on the other side of the room. He would have snarled her away save she had a grip on his elbow. It was only sheer will that kept his stomach quiet until he was on his knees before the privy hole.

Pen watched him try to fight down the bile his empty stomach wished to forcibly eject. It was only moments before she heard him vomit into whatever cesspit served the castle. He stumbled to his feet, only to be met by Pen.

  
"...You have to eat something, then a bath..."

  
"Begone, I can look after my..."

She dragged him toward the table, no doubt he was surprised someone could make him go anywhere. A chair met the backs of his knees.

"Sit..."

  
The commanding tone surprised him, he sat.

"Now, we'll start with water...since that is all your going to get for a drink, that or tea." She kept her voice calm. "It will give your body something to process besides wine."

He made a face and attempted to knock the cup from her hands as it touched his lips.

"Drink..." She said, "It will make your head feel better."

The water was sweet, fresh rainwater. How long had it been since he'd stood in the rain and let the pure sweetness wash away his faults?

"...A little food..."

The bred was rich with gains, something he'd forgotten in his war. A human would have called it Limness, but like the bred that humans ate there were several kinds.

"...a little more."

The meat was fresh, near perfection.

"There, come now..."

That hand at his elbow again, pulling him to his feet. A hand guided his to rest upon a slender shoulder...

"Keep your hand to my shoulder, I will guide you." Pen said. "A hot bath will go a long way to warming you up."

"...Who are you, and what gives you the right..."

She tugged him along, despite his protests.

"I forgot you were not sober when I arrived." She said. "I am Pen, his Majesty Jareth summoned me to be your caretaker." She put her hand over his. "...I will be attending to all your basic needs and teaching you to care for yourself, as well as being your guide for now."

He remembered vaguely breaking down some hours ago, a lullaby he'd not heard since he was a child in the royal nursery.

"You sang for me..." He said, surprised.

Pen let herself smile, "Yes, I did."

"Where did you learn..."

She didn't want to give away that she was human, not while gaining his trust.

"I was raised in a remote enclave, his Majesty thought it best that your caretaker came from outside the underground with few ties to the court."

She felt his hand tighten on her shoulder.

"...So you are my keeper."

"No Lord Silverlance, I am not." She said. "I am to care for you, not hold you, prisoner." She paused, smelling hot water. "We were expected, a bath has already been drawn for you..."

she guided him over to the tub, turning to strip him down so she could get him into it.

He near protested when she began tugging at his pants, thinking she was taking "Basic needs" a bit too far. But when she reached up to undo the bandages, he could smell the water scented with herbs. The silk fell from his hips, revealing him to her near clinical gaze. Under any other circumstance she would have appreciated the sight of a naked male, but was drawn in horror at what had been done to him.

His eyes had been cut out, and the resulting wounds burned closed, the lids sealed to cover the empty sockets. He raised his hand to touch the wounds, still raw after nearly six months. The other healers had not let him touch his face in all that time.

"...I...am." He said, his hand pulling away.

"Yes, blind." She said softly. "I will re-bandage the wounds when we are finished."

He near fell to his knees again, she moved forward to catch him.

"...What have they done to me..." He gasped as if struck by a blow.

She didn't know how to answer him as she guided him into the tub.

"Let the water wash away your doubts...sit..."

The warmth of the water sank into him, giving pain to the many scratches and wounds upon his skin. He let out a hiss of pain.

She soaped a sponge, grabbed his arm and began scrubbing. He let out several explicative when she scrubbed over fresh scratches and the cuts upon his skin. She ignored them to get them cleaned properly. Not that the healers had done a bad job, they had done their best with an uncooperative patient. She got him to stand, as she gave only passing notice to his anatomy when the sponge skimmed over it. She raised her head to get him to sit again and came face to face with said anatomy; showing its appreciation for even her glancing touch. She let out a soft gasp.

"...Please sit and tilt your head back." She said, fighting down the blush heating her skin.

He sat, as her hands touched his head.

The water flowing over his hair was warm and smelled of the same herbs as the bathwater. Her fingers in his scalp, freeing the matted strands from the long neglect. He let out a sigh, it had been very long since anyone but himself had attended to such a task. She had begun singing, a tune he'd never heard before.

"Gather round me ones I love/I can feel your presence here...You are in the falling leaves/you are in the ground below/I remember who you are/call your name and let you go..."

It was one of the songs she had chosen to sing at the enclave before her contract had been drawn up. It helped her focus, and quite appropriate for the time of year "above".

"...what song is that..."

She paused, not realizing she'd sung a human tune.

"Its called "Gather round" one of the songs I've exchanged with a singer who sings for humans." She said, rinsing his hair. "It's meant to be sung in remembrance of the dead, and as around...but I sing it solo. Now stand up so I can get you out an dry you off..."

He placed a hand on her shoulder as he stepped out, a towel was warped around his hips. She wasn't going to parade him around the room naked.

She guided him to a chair and had him sit as she worked a towel through his hair. He had shown no reaction to her mention of learning from humans, though she could feel his disgust that such "elvish" talent would be wasted in such an exchange. She began braiding the long strands, better to fasten a clean bandage around his eyes. The wounds looked a bit better, less red. She was gentle as she retied the bandage around his eyes. His hand brushed hers.

"Yes..." She said softly.

"Do not leave me to myself..."

She was surprised, as she had no intention of leaving him alone in such a fragile state. He may have been lucid for this short time, but there was no guarantee he'd stay that way.

"I intend to make my bed near the fire.." She said.

"...I would that you be closer..."

"Surely you don't intend to invite me, a stranger into your bed."

His mouth worked, but no answer came. She knew he'd not meant it that way, but all too often the fey lords usually equated her with a whore as their perceptions of humans were hollow, lusting creatures. She had been grateful for her lost love's insistence on learning to defend herself.

"If you wish to be held, I can provide that..."

His hand touched hers, trembling.

"You beneath, I above..." She said.

He let out a soft sound.

She got him to his feet, wishing she had something to put him in to lessen the embarrassment that was to come in the morning.

She led him back to the table, feeding him a bit more food before she brought him to the bed and got him to lay down. She sang this time a tune from the lost city of Lothlorien, Tolkien had spoken truth of the old elvish cities from the first ages of man. He drifted to sleep, breathing softly. She stepped back from the bed, turning her attention to what was left of the food. She would fill her own belly before joining Nuada in sleep.

She remembered why they said that once mortals tasted Fey food they would never leave Elfland, the food was untainted by man's insistence on the dominance of the soil. It still had a life that is shared with the one who consumed it. She looked out the recently repaired window and thought she could hear a faint cry of anguish from somewhere in the Maze.

"...So another fails," She said. "I hope the child finds peace among his new family..."  
She stripped to tunic and trousers, leaving her riding skirt and boots by the hearth, taking up her cloak to use as a blanket.

She gently climbed into the bed from the foot as not to disturb Nuada. Much to her surprise, he turned to his side so she could lay against his back. She moved closer and as he requested held him, humming a soft lullaby. It did not take long for him to drift back to sleep, perhaps secure he was not alone. She closed her own eyes and soon drifted down into sleep.

_Some time in the middle of the night…_

Pen woke with a start, the dream she'd been having caused her to wake with a start. She turned to look at Nuada, he was still on his side softly breathing in his sleep. She breathed a soft sigh of relief. The dream had been disturbing as it had been erotic. She had dreamed of a warm weight upon her, naked milk-white skin and silver hair with sun-kissed tips. She knew that could describe most male elves of Bathmora. What had made the dream disturbing was other hands guiding her to touch, molding them to the milk-white flesh to memorize the musculature as that body slid into hers. She closed her eyes as the words that awakened her echoed.

_"...The mother has given him to you, he is yours...for he is the first...and he shall be the last."_

She had heard them once before, upon a bed in an enclave room where she'd given her virginity to a male the elders had chosen for the task. She had been too stated to understand the words of sacred marriage spoken over them.

It was strange to remember that rite now, as she lay above the blankets of a man's bed. She quietly rose, going to the window and out into the small balcony. The night air cooled whatever sweat that clung to her skin. This was the first time she had dreamed of such things since leaving the enclave. She had to admit Nuada was attractive, most elven males were having grown up with more than she could shake a longbow at. She leaned upon the railing, her eyes tightly shut as the memories came.

She could keep them at bay while she sang, but the dream and waking beside Nuada triggered the memories of abandonment, the revelation of what her beloved was and him disappearing with their child. She fell to her knees, her arms wrapped around herself. She silently shook with her tears, it had been as parts of her had been torn away when she'd been left bereft of both the man she had come to love and the child she had desperately wanted. After a short time, a red-tailed hawk came to perch upon the rail, watching her shaking with grief she couldn't voice lest she wake her charge. After a few moments, it departed crying out its own sorrow into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Pen sings "Gather Round" Is by Barebones ensemble off their album "songs from the boneyard".


	8. Above and beneath

_A short time later, in the goblin city…_

The Hawk flew into a rather run-down house hovering above the floor for a few moments before transforming into a young man with milk-white skin and dark hair. He laid his hands on the worn table, shaking with anger.

"...I hope you were not foolish enough to go see her."

The young man turned, focusing eyes that were green rather than Bathmoran gold upon the slender form of the Goblin king.

"How could I not, she is my mother."

Jareth sighed, he wondered if he should have just stayed in bed and let the young man brood.

"...Who was summoned to look after one of the most dangerous Elves in the unseen." Jareth reminded him. "Even blinded, or so I'm told."

The young man turned to face the table again.

"Nuada Silverlance is not a threat, not after the enchantments the High King laid upon him."

Jareth mentally compared his guest with the young man before him. Both were clinging to something best let go.

"He may not be now, but after a short time he maybe." Jareth frowned. "...Tam Lin, she is still grieving your father's foolish mistake. She never even got to hold you before…"

The young man frowned, his father had named him Tam Lin after one of his mother's favorite ballads. He had learned the story behind the ballad recently after being sent to the Enclave from which his mother had come.

"...And he paid for it." Tam Lin said. "...the High King Blinded him…"

Jareth remembered then just how foolish Nuada had been in his exile. Fathering a child with a young singer who was maiden for her enclave upon his visit.

"...He claims to hate humans yet how many has he bedded, how many lives did he take and yet still came home to a human lover."

"Your mother is no mere human, you know that."

Tam Lin slammed his fist on the table, anger clear in each line of his young body.

"...She deserved better than to be used just so A fading king could have an heir that would uphold the treaty.."

"And you will uphold it, even if the others of the court have written its truth off."

Tam Lin trembled. "...all because my mother is one of those rare humans who remember."

Jareth would have sent the young man back to the enclave, but their elders insisted he spend some time among Fey. Why they had chosen the Goblin Kingdom was beyond him.

"...He forgot her, abandoned her and stole me from my cradle...for what, to abandon me upon the very doorstep of beings he claims to hate."

"She did not forget him, there has been no other man," Jareth said. "She has refused suitors from both races, why do you think that is when most would have moved on and chosen another." He laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. "The rite should have replaced the bond he shared with his sister...he would not be…"

"Be what, Jareth...broken, blinded and full of hatred."

Jareth removed his hand. "...If you wish to go see her again, I suggest taking on a guise more appropriate than your hawk form, birds save owls do not fly at night."

Tam Lin fell to his knees, shaking with rage, grief and a kind of hopelessness that suffused his very bones.

"...I will expect you at breakfast, Prince Tam Lin Silverlance…"

Jareth turned and left the young man to wallow in self-pity.

_The Goblin Place, Nuada's chamber…_

Pen dried her tears, shivering from the once cool air now chilled. She silently crawled back in, Nuada had not stirred from his sleep. She pressed herself to his back, hoping to warm herself from being outside. She wrapped her arms back around him, his hands came up to cover hers.

"...Do not leave me..." he murmured in Gaelic.

She touched her lips to the back of his neck, he let out a soft sigh and turned to face her; instantly awake.

"...Go back to sleep." She said softly. "I just needed some air."

He touched her face, gentle this time seeking.

"No." He said, tracing his fingers along her lips. "...You are chilled."

"It was cool outside…"

His lips came within a hair's breadth of hers before he pulled her against him. The blanket and sheets did little to hide his arousal.

"Stay against me," he reached behind her until he found her cloak and draped it over her. "You do little good to me if you become ill."

He kissed her then, holding her tight to his body, sharing its warmth despite the barrier between them.

Pen did not know how long the kiss lasted, Nuada's lips were skillful and made her forget all else. She only knew he pulled away first and she was on top of him. He stroked her hair, pausing to pull the sticks from it.

"...warm..." She murmured softly. "Thank you…"

He let out a contented and very male sound.

"Sing for me again." She heard a rumble from his chest. "Please…"

She began a soft Lullaby, as his hands stroked her back through her cloak.

It seemed she and just closed her eyes when dawn came streaming through the open window. Nuada lay beneath her. He had not moved since she'd sung for him upon her return to bed, he tightened his arms around her when she made to move.

"...It is dawn..." She murmured softly. "...this would be very compromising if we were found."

His arms slid away from her waist only to have his hand in her hair pulling her lips to his. It was obvious he did not care how compromising the situation they would be found in.

The tray crashing to the floor broke this kiss. No doubt the servant expected her to be at the fire, not on top of Nuada. The sheet and blanket were still in place, he too much the noble to take more than what was offered.

"...We should see to getting you dressed." She said, sliding off. "His majesty said there would be clothes…"

He caught her. "...I did not ask you to leave me yet."

He rolled so that he was on top, the coverings still between them. His lips were a hair's breadth from hers again.

"...We need to be up before another servant finds us..." She said.

His hand came up to caress her face. "Would that you were more than this, more than offering comfort…"

"Lord Silverlance..." She said on a breath.

He laid his forehead upon hers, breathing heavily. She could feel his need, pressed against her body through the blankets. She reached up her hand to cup his cheek, her thumb tracing his jaw.

"...Perhaps we shall get to this need...in time." She said moving her knee gently. "But there are others that hold sway, I am a stranger to you."

He let out a trembling breath as he rolled to his back.

She moved from the bed, and away from the temptation to linger. It was a good thing as Jareth came in a few moments later, wondering what had startled the servants. He looked at her and then at Nuada. She would have spoken for herself if not for Nuada's words.

"...She was above..." Was all Nuada said as he levered himself up. "Nothing more…"

Jareth nodded, producing a set of black silk clothing. She took it quietly.

  
"...I will have another breakfast sent up." The Goblin King said. "and inform the servants to knock..."

She nodded, turning back to aid Nuada in dressing.

She had his pants on and fastened quickly, avoiding brushing against him. He made her pause before she put his tunic on.

"Touch me…"

She was a bit surprised. He reached down for her hand and placed it over his heart, holding it there.

"Touch me here…"

"What you ask of me…"

He put a finger to her lips with his free hand.

"...When you sing for me...I am touched." He said. "...it is where my sister sank the blade."

She could feel the scar there, healed by whatever had pulled him back from the Summer lands.

"...Nuada…"

A soft smile came to his face, and he released her hand. She aided him in putting on his tunic, fastening the sash about his waist.

_Elsewhere in the palace…_

Jareth watched Tam Lin pace back and forth, having found out what the servants had seen earlier in the morning.

"...The custom is old, he slept beneath the blankets and she upon them." Jareth said. "Though I have to admit, it is usually the other way around."

The young prince paused in his pacing, to run a hand through his dark hair.

"...what will he do when he finds out she is a human."

"You already know the answer to that, it did not repulse him when the elders welcomed him and set for him the task of…"

"...She was the maiden that year." Tam Lin said.

"And you were born in the next..." Jareth said. "I am well aware of that…"

Tam Lin played with the ring about his finger, a gift from an aunt who now lay as stone in the earth.

"...Stay away from them." Jareth said, irritation in his voice. "...it is only by grace and luck that the High King hasn't tried to eliminate you from the line of succession."

They both knew the real reason the High King had not made a move to kill Tam Lin, it would anger too many and throw Bathmora into chaos. Jareth turned to leave, wondering if Balor had known how much of his son lay in the child he'd had conceived to have his heir.

_Nuada's chambers…_

Pen was teaching Nuada how to eat without seeing what he was eating. The clock method wouldn't quite work as there were thirteen hours on a fey clock instead of twelve. She had managed for him to find his mug without knocking it over and finding the bread upon the table. She sighed, as she guided his hands to the silverware.

"...We will pause for now." She said when he could touch each utensil and know what it was.

He sat back, reaching out for her hand. She caught it before he knocked over something.

"...Tell me about the enclave where you grew up...is it still there?"

She pulled her chair next to his.

"It is well into the forest, beneath great trees. We lived with the wood, valued its seasons." She said. "yes, it is quite remote."

"Then humans have not despoiled it…"

"No, they have not," she said. "I would spend many hours by the streams listening to the Nixie singing."

He turned slightly to her so his free hand could brush over her lips.

"...Were that it nightfall." He said, softly. "I would have no care for who would stumble upon us…"

She kissed the tips of his fingers, once upon a time she would have not cared either. There was a dangerous balance that had to be kept, the secret of her race and the grip he had upon the living.

"...The enclave is such a beautiful place." She said softly. "I was unhappy to leave it."

His mouth moved to capture hers, his hand now in her hair. A long time later they found themselves upon the cold stones with him above her, breathing heavily.

"...I..." He began.

"Shush..." She said. "...I let you."

Their clothing was intact, they had fallen from the chairs to end up on the floor. His head fell forward, to lay on her shoulder. Her hands touched his shoulders, she could feel him tremble.

"...are you hurt?"

She knew she'd have bruises from landing on the stones.

"No." She said softly.

His body continued to shake, perhaps a realization of how much he had lost. A soft sob escaped his throat.

"...she's gone." He choked out.

She did not speak lest he think her his sister again.

"...She...she chose death to stop me." His voice held so much sadness. "...why, why wasn't I left to rot in some hell…"

"Someone needed you..." She said. "...or this is your hell…"

He rose, using the table to lever himself up. He stumbled toward the bed, sitting. His breath began coming in gasps.

"Nuada..." she said and was at his side.

He turned his face to her, it was tinged blue as if he wasn't getting enough air. "...Breath hurts...healer...please…"

She hurried to the corridor and to one of the servants. She returned to him, softly singing to him as she held him against her body.


	9. Herbs, cold iron and peach brandy

It only took a few notes to learn what was wrong, the wound in his heart was not fully healed. She continued to sing, trying to heal the small tear. He clung to her as he tried to catch his breath, there would be bruises on her arms from his grip, but she couldn't let go. In short order, the healers came and pulled him from her. She saw the frayed ends of the bond again and did the only thing she could, grabbed onto them. She near screamed as the healers pulled her farther away. His emotions were hitting her like a lightning strike.

"...Singer, let go..." A voice so much like Nuada's said. "You'll hurt yourself…"

She let go, feeling utterly lost as darkness claimed her.

It was sometime later she regained herself in the Queen's chamber. She was cold, chilled at what she had learned from the brief contact. Sara offered her a steaming mug, she was grateful for it as it leached some warmth into her.

"...The healers said you near killed yourself." Sara said.

She sipped from the mug, tasting bitter tea. She had to know what had happened to Nuada, what his condition was.

"...What of..Nu...Lord Silverlance." She asked.

She could not let on that she felt something for Nuada, he no doubt had enemies who would love a pawn to use against him.

"...Resting, but he called for you a short time ago before the healers sent him into sleep." Sarah said. "...he seemed disturbed you were taken from him."

She would have been warmed by the thought but could not be having seen how raw his emotions were. She would be feeling the aftereffects for a while.

"The one who pulled me away…"

Sarah paused. "His name is Tam Lin, he is a fosterling."

She smiled, sipping her tea. That was a ballad she enjoyed singing now and again, one she had sung through much of her childhood.

"...Did the fairy queen steel him away..." She asked, trying to lighten the mood.

It took Sarah a few moments to realize the joke Pen had made. No one had thought to make such a joke.

"...Jareth would dip me in the bog of stench if I wanted to make a tithe to hell..." Sarah said. "And from what I smell of Hoggel...it lasts a long time…"

She laughed softly. "...Bring me back to Lord Silverlance, I promised…"

Sara shook her head, it was clear she wasn't going to let her go anywhere.

"The healers said you are to rest for a day or two."

Her hand trembled, she could still feel an afterimage of the emotion flooding the bond. She was shaken by a few moments, she wondered how Nuala had borne it for a lifetime. She pulled the blanket around herself, shaking.

_Sometime in the night…_

Pen awoke from another dream, near the same save its ending. Arms had held her, whispering the words in Sindarin and a circle of mithril slid upon her finger. She had awoken just as she was to ask her mysterious lover's name. She got up from her cot and went out to the balcony. She stood trembling, but no tears would come with the memories. It was as if she'd cried herself out the night before. She looked down at her hands, half expecting to see the band encircling her finger. She had been wise and brought the blanket with her this time.

A near ghostly figure glided from the shadows, startling her. He was starlight and alabaster, his eyes glowed with amber light. He came close to her, leaning down to kiss her. His lips felt solid, but her hands passed through him. It could not be Nuada, he was being watched over by the healers.

"Nuada?" She whispered.

Another kiss, filled with longing and passion.

"...Go back to bed, little dreamer." He said, pulling away. "...I will keep watch…"

A hand brushed her cheek and her eyes closed, arms caught her and carried her in. She felt gentle hands tucking her in and another kiss.

"Sleep, little dreamer..." A feather-light kiss on her forehead. "...dawn comes all too soon."

She drifted away, not quite knowing if it was still the dream or that waking had been the dream.

Pen woke again with gentle shaking. She turned over to see one of the elves wearing a frown. She near swore at his rough expression.

"...He requested you, human."

She heard contempt in the elf's voice, any more and he might have gotten a foot and a half of steel shoved through his gut.

"...Now…"

She was yanked from her blankets, Her fist made contact with the side of his nose.

"Back off..." She hissed, flexing her hand.

The Elf would have retaliated save for Jareth entering, he did obviously did not wish to piss off another king.

"Leave the singer be…"

The elf gave her a disgusting look and turned away, wiping the blood from his nose.

"Making friends I see..." Jareth said.

"...He had no right to manhandle me." She said, checking her hand. "I'm not a morning person.”

Jareth handed her a fresh set of clothing.

"...No, he did not." Jareth said. "Did you sleep well?"

She did not speak of the dream, or of the ghostly figure she had met on the balcony.

"As well as one can when they are worried about their charge." She said, holding the clothes tight to her chest.

"The bathing chamber is the door to your left..." Jareth said. "I will escort you as it seems your escort has shirked his duty."

She disappeared into the bath, shedding her dirty clothing for fresh.

Jareth was waiting for her, he offered his arm in a most kingly manner. She was flattered he would make such a gesture.

"...Thank you, Goblin King..." She said.

"Your quite welcome, Singer." He said. "...I should warn you, the healers have worked their best on top of your actions, but he is still weak."

"The wound in his heart..." She said. "It tore open…"

Jareth frowned, from what the healers had told him it had been sheer luck to catch the wound in time.

"...It is a grave legacy from his defeat." He said. "...He's called for you from the moment he woke."

She smiled. "...I make him feel something other than sorrow and thus precious to him."

Jareth paused outside Nuada's chamber, holding open the door for her.

"...The healers will leave you to him once you've settled yourself in." He said. "I will have someone bring food shortly."

"Thank you," She said.

Jareth watched her glide across the room to Nuada's side. He turned away and headed to his study, seeing them together turned his thoughts to a passage he'd once seen and hoped the book he needed was still intact.

Pen made her way across the room, watching Nuada breathe softly in what appeared to be sleep. His skin was still had a slight blue tinge, like skim milk. The healer beside the bed rose so she could take his place. She took his hand in hers and squeezed gently.

"I am here, Lord Silverlance..." She said softly.

He stirred but did not wake.

"The herbs used are strong, they will make him sleep a lot." The healer said. "...Your songs may help as well."

She would sing to him, songs of the wild places unspoiled by humanity.

"...My songs are many." She said softly. "By the mother's grace…"

She began singing, first the lullaby she had sung for him not so long ago.

_Jareth's study…_

The Goblin king looked through the pages of a near crumbling book. Seeing the singer with Nuada had sparked a memory and the memory had led to the book he now held carefully in his hands. He paused when he came to an illustration he'd seen many ages ago. It was a ring of Mithril inscribed with the vows spoken for the rite of Sacred marriage between the maiden and the young god. He searched for the mention of a plan banded ring. He found only one reference, it was given if the man chosen as the young god was of Royal blood. The plain band was given to the young woman as a sign of Royal favor, even more so if a child was conceived between them.

"...She was maiden, he the young god." Jareth said, carefully closing the book. "...The ring should adorn her finger."

He set the book down as carefully as he'd closed it. He would have to talk to Tam Lin at some point and ask if he knew why no ring was given. As much as Nuada was bound to his sister, he would have taken the vows of the rite seriously. It was tempting to rectify the situation, to give the broken lord a reason to hold on. He shook his head, it was better to deal with the young princeling than the elder lord for now.

_Nuada's chambers…_

Pen was now on to tunes from her childhood, songs taught by nature if one were to listen. He stirred, his free hand came to rest upon hers. She paused in her singing to reach up to brush away a few strands from his face. There was a tension there that would not easily be erased.

"Lord Silverlance..." She said softly.

"Do not leave me again..." He said.

His hand came to touch her cheek and his fingers brushed across her lips. She remembered the feel of all his emotions and thoughts hitting her at once, it had been overwhelming. She kissed the tips of his fingers.

"...I won't leave you." She said.

Some of the tension drained from his face. She began to sing again, soft as before.

"Lay beside me…"

She rose up, and carefully climbed in beside him. He pulled her close so that her head lay on his chest.

"...Do not leave me to myself..." He whispered before sleep claimed him again.

She lay there, listening to his heartbeat.

_Hours later…_

The healers came again, rousing Nuada just enough to take an herb mixture to aid in healing. She watched them, humming a soft tune. The tear was healing, but slowly. If he'd been healthy at the time it tore, it would well be on its way to being a memory. She watched him sleep, thinking of what her life would have been like if her lost love had stayed with her. She wouldn't have left the only home she knew, and perhaps had a lover or other children.

She silently slipped from his arms and stood at the side of the bed for a moment before going to the small pile of her clothing that had not been moved. She pulled her blades from the folds of her riding skirt, then set about moving the table so she could go through her Katas. The movement of the blades would sharpen her focus let her gain perspective upon what she had experienced and the raw emotions that had imprinted themselves upon her memory. It felt good to move, to let the Kata take her deep within.

She was performing the more elaborate maneuver when she was pulled up short, Nuada was standing in front of her. One of the blades a hair's breadth from his throat. He stood there "looking" down the blade at her.

"...I smell cold iron." He said, raising a hand to touch the tip near his throat. "Only Royal guards have cold iron…"

She pulled her blade back, waiting for him to accuse her of being his keeper again. It had been slightly foolish not to take her practice elsewhere.

"...They were a gift from King Balor...I had the privilege of singing before him once."

He stepped forward a pace, he really should have been in bed. He looked unsteady on his feet and not all that lucid.

"...It is rare to be so favored..." He said softly. "...Only two singers have ever sung for my father...and you are neither old or male…"

She sheathed the blades, both sliding into the scabbard with a soft click. He reached out to touch her. Her first instinct was to pull back. Something was not right about the way he was speaking.

"...There was only female my father would gift so." he touched her face. "Rare as a blue pearl aren't you singer…"

She hated being compared to such a rare item, though it gave her an air of prestige.

"...Rare are you..." He said, his tone changing.

She nearly dropped the scabbard, but her grip tightened. She wouldn't have to draw her swords to defend herself. The tone was tinged with anger, but beneath disrepair.

"...Human..." He spat, gripping her chin with bruising force.

"Lord Silverlance..." She managed.

The mention of his title usually brought him back to focus, but not this time.

"Do not use that title with me, human…"

He shoved her away, disgusted.

"Now I know why The goblin King summoned you, one last humiliation upon me…"

She could taste the anger he radiated but wasn't going to back down. He stumbled forward, anger written on his face.

"...Parade me at court, isn't that what you'll be paid to do. Polite to my face while they laugh behind my back at how far I have fallen as to be cared for by a human…"

She was taken aback as if slapped, she had not taken the contract other than to heal.

"How dare you..." She hissed, pulling herself up to her full five feet three. "My people have nothing to do with your little hate-filled war or petty human conflicts…"

She was about to turn when he slapped her, She gripped the hilt of one of her blades but didn't draw it. She knew what he wanted, even beneath his anger.

"...You want me to run you through, don't you...my blade is the only one in all of the underground that can seriously hurt you." She said. "Get me mad enough and I'll forget why I'm here...no Lord Silverlance, I will not bend to that wish."

She turned, leaving the room and down the hall, hearing the sounds of destruction as she reached the end.

Jareth found her there a while later, still trembling. He guided her to his study and set her down, pouring her a small snifter of peach brandy.

"...He wanted me to kill him." She said. "He knew what I was all along."

"No, I don't think so..." Jareth said. "He knew you for a Singer, yes…"

She clutched the scabbard to her chest. "I pulled out my blades to practice, he connected the dots from there."

Jareth frowned, only one singer in all of the guild was allowed to be armed and she was it.

"...I am sorry singer, I should have prepared better for your arrival." He said. "and opened my Salle to you. I did not know you would come armed, but considering your rarity it was as a precaution."

"I have been approached by too many fey lords to be added to their households..." She said.

Jareth knew Nuada's action was grounds for termination of the contract.

"...I will make arrangements for you to leave…"

"No." She said. "It would be unwise...he is angry more at himself and at the gods for his sister's loss." She took the slightly oversized glass. "...Anger is just another emotion he must work through…"

She closed her eyes, she could still feel the afterimage of his emotions imprinted upon her bones.

"...If I meet anger with abandonment it will only send him farther into the depths when he breaks again."

Jareth nodded. "...Will you come to the banquet hall tonight, I think performance is in order. I've only heard Singers upon my rare visits to court."

She rubbed the red mark upon her face, Nuada's handprint clear still upon her skin.

"I would be delighted..." She said. "to sing for you Goblin king…"

Jareth smiled, he'd get Tam Lin to attend so the young princeling would give up his obsession to see her.


	10. I sing thee memory

_The banquet hall, later that evening…_

Pen had been attired in fine Silver and green silk, signs of favor from Jareth. The silver and emerald diadem that held back her dark hair, a gift from Sara, for her aid as a midwife. Hasty invites brought many minor nobles to the castle when most would have avoided it like the plague. She stood on a raised dais in the center of the hall, with the tables circled around her. She searched faces for familiar nobles for whom she'd sung before. This night would be prosperous she hoped, but she couldn't keep her thoughts from Nuada. She took a breath and began to sing.

Her first selection was to call the elements with the story/song of a woman going to the fires of the Burning times called "Spirits". The second was the one she'd sung for Nuada, "Gather Round" to remember the dead. Two tunes from lost Lothlorien followed. She sang both Human and Fey songs, to much applause. Her last selection of the night was as much as a lament as a remembrance.

> _"...Bring to me all of my arrows/bring to me my crossbow too/we might need them both before this night is through...I have died a thousand times watching all these angels fall/we will avenge them all...we are not alone in a world of stone…"_

It was called "World of Stone". It reminded her of all that had been lost with the sundering of the Grandfather Tree. It also reminded her there were ones like her, who would turn their backs upon their own kind to follow what once was, they would have willingly followed Nuada in his quest to claim the world for the Fey. Her own brooding was lost with the last note as the hall erupted with applause.

She spent the rest of the night was spent at the High table sitting at Jareth's left hand. She ate sparingly, knowing someone would ask for an encore. The young foster ling Tam Lin was seated at her left, eager to chat with her. She fielded his questions calmly until the minstrels struck up a tune and a lady came to ask him to dance. A soft hand laid itself on her shoulder, she turned. It was the same near ghostly figure from the balcony. A rose appeared before her and was laid upon her plate.

"...A dance, dear singer..." He said offering his hand.

She took it, unlike the balcony it felt solid. A finger touched her lips.

"Just dance with me…"

She has whirled away among the other dancers.

He was solid under her hands, warm and living beneath the black and red silks. He led her in the dance, holding her close. She could hear the others, the crude innuendos that implied she would be well bedded. If he heard them, he paid no heed. The end of the dance found them outside the banquet hall, in the torch-lit formal garden.

"...Thank you for the dance," she said softly.

"You are quite welcome, Singer." He said. "I have a token of appreciation for your performance…"

He held out a ring with three strands of twisted Mithril wire. She was stunned as he grasped her hand and slid the ring upon it.

"...But…"

A finger touched her lips again.

"You will understand when the time is right…"

He turned to go, sliding through the hedge.

"Nuada…"

He turned to her and shook his head. His hand caressed her cheek where she had been slapped.

"...Go back to the banquet little dreamer..." He said. "I...go back."

He faded into starlight, leaving her standing there alone.

Jareth saw her return alone, wondering where her companion was. She had not gone out alone, all had seen the Bathmoran elf who had twirled her around the dance floor. He approached, offering a hand.

"A dance, singer..." He said. "We may talk without disruption…"

She nodded, taken into the dance once more. He noticed the ring upon her finger.

"...It appears you have a very devoted admirer." He said.

She looked at the ring. "...It would appear so."

He decided to give her the news he'd revived while she was being gifted with the ring.

"The healers came while you were dancing...your charge collapsed again, after smashing through the balcony doors…"

She made to pull away from Jareth, he stopped her.

"Do not, most here would slit Nuada's throat for treason and regicide without a second thought. If you show concern or flee it will give them a target for their vengeance…"

She watched from behind Jareth's shoulder as some of the gossip mongers begin to insinuate that Jareth would soon be bedding her and not his queen.

"...I'd like to cut their tongues out with a rusted iron blade…"

Jareth laughed softly. "Now I see why you were not contracted for more court functions...there would be too many tongueless courtiers…"

The dance ended and Jareth led her back to the table, offering his hand out to Sara. He made it clear that he only had eyes for his queen by kissing her passionately in the middle of the dance floor.

The banquet ended in the small hours, leaving Pen weary. She would have rather spent the night singing for Nuada. She checked the slender blade hidden up her sleeve, it was still in place and could drop into her hand with a slight flick of her wrist. Someone had begun to follow her. She checked behind her, seeing no one. She wished for her more informal attire as it offered more freedom than the skirts she now wore. She paused before the chamber door, hers for her stay.

She listened at the door, assured there was no one on the other side of the door she pushed it open and slid in. Hands grabbed her, flinging her against the wall. She was stunned for a moment but her blade was quickly in her hand. There were three of them, obviously, they thought her easy prey.

"...Just subdue the slut." said the one that appeared to be their leader.

She shifted her blade, thankful for her lost love's lessons and those of others. They would find that this "Slut" wasn't as easy as they thought.

The first one got a face full of her blade, the second got his throat slit, she spun for the third but they had fled out the window.

"...Lumis..." She said to activate the lights.

Two low elves lay at her feet, quite dead. The one who had been following her came out of the shadows.

"Youse OK…"

She jumped and turned to attack before she saw who it was. It was Hoggle, the dwarf had been sent to trail her back to her rooms.

"I am now...I'm going to need a new room."

"Jareth said you'd be wanting another place."

She sighed, it was going to be even longer until she could shed herself of her "plumage" and get some rest.

_A short time later…_

She frowned as she shed the dress and diadem. She didn't like that she'd had to change rooms twice and had yet to get the chance to check in on Nuada. She knew Jareth's reasoning behind his choice to keep them apart. It would be disastrous if she fell into the hands of his enemies. Tam Lin found her, he was still filled with questions.

"...I've told you before Prince Tam Lin, I know little of what you ask."

The young man didn't seem to want to leave. She frowned deeper.

"You are a rare singer." He said. "King Jareth wanted to make sure you are safe." He sat down by the door. "Almost all of the banquet hall saw you leave with a Bathmoran elf half of them would swear was Lord Silverlance." He sighed. "Which would be impossible as at the same time healers came to inform his Majesty about an incident with a very large pane of glass."

She frowned deeper, she thought the young man a tad invasive.

"Lord Silverlance attempted to take his own life." He said. "Or so the healers have said."

She growled at him, making the Princeling smile.

"...We had an argument, yes." She said softly. "I walked away from him, he wanted me to kill him...He wished to die in the most painful way."

Tam Lin frowned, he had gone to see his sire shortly after the incident under the cover of using the Privy. The healers now had the Fey lord heavily sedated and sewn up with more thread than the dress she had shed.

"Your blades, their cold iron...Guard's weapons."

"Yes, a gift from King Balor for singing for his daughter…"

He got up. "...Jareth has set guards upon the door, his guards."

She sighed, it wasn't the first time she'd gone around with armed escorts. He bowed as he departed, leaving her with the guards standing outside her door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs..."Spirits" is off "Let it begin now" by Reclaiming collective, "Word of Stone" Is by Blackmore's Night off their album "village Lantern"


	11. Ghosts, tears and blood

_The Royal chamber…_

Jareth paced up and down, while Sarah brushed her hair. They had spent most of the banquet with each other, dispelling any rumor that Jareth had summoned the singer to be his mistress. He paused, leaning over Sara's shoulder to brush his lips upon her neck.

"...Has the Singer been settled?" She asked, turning into Jareth's kiss.

"As much as she can be with the threat of assassination upon her charge." He said softly. "She was none too pleased to be shuffled around the castle."

Sara frowned, "The dress had to be uncomfortable for her. She appeared more comfortable with the clothes she was wearing when she arrived."

"I wanted to present that she was a pampered Singer, and no threat to them."

Sara shook her head. "The servants heard their argument, and saw the aftereffect of Nuada's disastrous tantrum."

"They know better than to gossip to outsiders," Jareth said. "There might have to be a visit to the bog of Stench though…"

Sara sighed softly. "...The invitations were hasty, but our guest were minor Nobility...Including the High King's steward."

Jareth would have frowned, but having the steward see her went well with what he had planned.

"So the High King will know we have the one person who can restore Nuada or break him to pieces," Jareth said softly, nuzzling her neck. "...He will think us having a human tending to the Fey lord to be a fitting punishment."

Sara sighed. "She is going to become upset if we keep them apart." She smiled. "I saw how much she cared, she held him close after she sang him to sleep...Let the matter rest for the night."

  
She set her brush aside and rose. Jareth took her into his arms and began waltzing about the room, singing to her.

_Late that night…_

Pen woke from another dream, this one too ended with the placing of a Mithril ring upon her finger. She lay awake for a short time looking at the twisted band about her finger before she got up and went out onto the Balcony. The memories were still there but overlaid with Nuada's raw emotions. A feather-light touch upon her cheek made her turn.

"...I'm sorry for my abrupt departure earlier this evening."

She turned to look back out upon the darkened goblin city.. Her eyes closed as he slid behind her and laid both hands upon her shoulders.

"...What are you…"

There was a long silence as two arms pulled her against a warm body.

"A ghost who remembers." Was the answer.

She sighed softly. while lips moved down her neck and stopped on her shoulder. She wanted to turn around, to see his face to return his kisses.

"Why..." she asked finally turning around, reaching up.

He bent to her, lips met in passion, arms held her for a in passion.

"...Go back to bed little dreamer." He said softly. "Would that I could lay you upon it and give you the blanket of my body…"

She touched his lips, the answer was simple.

"Heal, cast aside your hatred...live."

He shook his head, backing from her. "...I…"

He put a hand to his heart and then touched her forehead.

She felt it, how deeply rooted his hate was. There was a hole in his own heart, one he'd filled with so much rage. He pulled his hand away and faded into starlight.

She stood there, trembling with the knowledge that Nuada had the same hole in his heart as he had claimed of humanity. In fighting the monster he had become what he had been fighting. He had filled that hole with rage instead of greed and apathy. She fell to her knees, tears flowing down her face. She shook trying to gain her feet, stumbling toward the bed. Her tears soaked the pillow by the time Sleep claimed her.

_Nuada's chambers…_

The healers held Nuada as the broken Fey Lord vomited up his guts. They had discovered Someone had tainted the herbs they had been using to sedate him. It appeared Iron dust had been mixed into their healing powders. It now was wreaking havoc with their attempts to treat his injuries. Iron Sickness was uncommon in the underground, even the two Elvish healers were at a loss to slow the progression.

"Summon the Singer..." Nuada demanded between heaves. "...I need her...she will know…"

Two servants hurried off, hoping to find the singer and bring her to the Fey Lord.

"...I do not see what bringing the human here will do Lord Silverlance." The healer said when Nuada stopped vomiting briefly. "Half of the castle will think she poisoned you."

"If she wished to do that...She would have done it with near three feet of cold iron..." He whispered softly. "She refused...And walked away from me."

"It will not matter to your enemies...or to the High King."

Nuada coughed, one of the servants was there to wipe away the blood he'd coughed up.

"...He would be here gloating...or paying my guards to finish me...where is she…"

"She is coming, his Majesty moved her to another part of the castle."

Nuada laughed, turning to more coughing and more blood.

"...We will find her Lord Silverlance…"

Nuada let a small smile grace his face, hoping her songs would bring him that much closer to his sister.

_Pen's chamber…_

The servants banged upon the door, waking Pen from a fitful sleep. Her eyes were swollen from her tears. She splashed cold water upon her face, her hands trembling. She straightened her clothing and answered the door.

"...Lord Silverlance is deathly Ill...Iron Sickness…"

She gasped softly, this had not been mentioned by the Goblin King. She grabbed her cloak and threw it over her shoulders. She would not abandon Nuada, not when he needed her the most.

Pen arrived at Nuada's chambers, her cloak billowing behind her. The healers parted and let her come to kneel beside him. She took his hand, holding it to her face. He turned to offer her a weak smile before going limp again.

"...Sing for me..." He whispered softly. "Sing me to my sister…"

She could not sing his death, she would not.

"No, I won't sing you across the veil...you have to live...She wanted you to live."

His hand tightened on hers, asking her this one boon.

"Sing for me…"

She shook her head, she couldn't not like this. Her song would mean his death, She would not give him that wish. His body seized, the poison of the iron cramping his body. She tightened her grip on his hand.

"...There is no cure for Iron Poisoning." The healer said. "He received a rather large dose...we did not catch the tampering until tonight."

With a heavy heart, she sang notes to bring life from dust.

It was hours later that a set of hands attempted to pry her hand from Nuada's. She didn't want to let go. It was Jareth's hands that finally separated them. Nuada hadn't responded to her song for some time now.

"...He's in what humans call a coma," The healer said softly. "...There is little to do now but wait..."

  
Pen sat with her arms around her knees, watching Nuada's chest rise and fall. She would have almost no voice come morning.

"The singer sang herself near voiceless and it has done little good..." The head healer said. "Is it wise to have her here your Majesty, she represents all Lord Silverlance hates…"

"In the fact that she is human, yet he still called for her...still allowed her touch," Jareth said. "Leave her be...Find Prince Tam Lin...He will wish to be here…"

A servant hurried off, hoping to find the Princeling quickly. Jareth knew Tam Lin would wish to look in on both his parents.


	12. Hawks, poisons and longing questions

_Tam Lin's Chambers…_

The young Princeling sat with a brandy snifter in his hands, looking over the items that lay upon the table before him. A small bag of iron filings, a cast iron mortar and pestle, nightshade berries still on the vine, and various herbs used for haling. The High King had paid him well to commit a deed that would no doubt put him on the end of a blade. The brandy swirled dark in the glass, he would not hide the evidence of his crime.

The deception had been painful, especially when he learned the truth of who he was being paid to kill. He watched the brandy swirl in its glass again, then squeezed his eyes shut. He took a sip and frowned at the taste of peaches, they seemed to be the flavor dujure around the Goblin city.

"...Blood for blood, dear father..." He said softly.

His own hands had mixed the deadly herbs the healers had administered. The gold the High King had paid him to commit patricide lay scattered across the table. His hands trembled, sloshing the brandy against the sides of the glass.

He had turned the servants away when they had come to inform them of Jareth's request, he did not want to watch his sire die or his mother wail out her pain. He had heard enough of her disrepair that first night. He did not need to hear any more to know about the pain she bore since his birth. He took another sip, letting the burning of it turn his pain to ashes.

_A short time later…_

Jareth didn't bother knocking, he shoved the door open, surprised to see the young princeling starring into his brandy glass. Tam Lin turned to look at him as the glass slid from his hand to shatter upon the floor, hoping he'd consumed enough of his own poison to join his sire in death…

_Two hours later, the tower chamber of the place…_

Jareth fastened the jesses to the perch, the hawk he'd secured was hooded and belled. They was no chance of it escaping, not this room. He had not wished to do this to Tam Lin, but he had no choice. Forcing the transformation from man to Hawk shape had done little to improve his mood upon seeing what had lain on the table. The mews were empty, he kept few birds as he often flew in here when he did not wish to wake Sarah after a long night patrolling the Labyrinth.

"Perhaps a little time in hawk shape will give you perspective on your actions, Tam Lin...I will come to exercise you at dawn. With any hope, the healers can unravel your mess..." Jareth said too softly. "You'll remain here until I decide what your actual punishment is…"

He turned to go as the hawk upon the perch panicked, made a screeching sound. He ignored it as he turned out of the room. He had other matters attend to…

_Nuada's chambers…_

Pen paced mutely back and forth, her fingers itched to hold Nuada's hand. She had to admit she was falling for the broken fey lord and had been since she'd first laid eyes upon him. Would he want her once he realized who she was outside his rage? Jareth had given orders for the healers to vacate and leaver alone with the fey lord.

She soon grew tired, as she had been awakened much too early. Without a second thought, she climbed into bed beside Nuada, laying her head upon his chest. She used her cloak as a blanket, curled against his side. She closed her eyes, slowly drifting to sleep listening to his heart struggle to beat in a normal rhythm. She offered a silent prayer to the lady that he would not die with her beside him.

_Hours later…_

Nuada took a painful breath, feeling a warm weight upon his chest. He felt Pen's long hair beneath his fingers. She had not left him, Nor bent to his despair. He brushed her the hair back from her ear, tracing the graceful curve. He confirmed for himself the accusation he'd made in anger. She was human, he was lusting after a human. He fought down his disgust, the reaction to shove her away. His hand tightened in her hair, pressing her to his chest until she made gasping sounds. He released her and laid his hand upon the back of her neck. He felt her relax upon his chest, her body shifting closer.

"...Singer..." He croaked.

She raised her head and looked at him, his free hand traced her lips.

"Lord Silverlance..." She said softly.

His hand trembled, she raised her hand to meet his, lacing her fingers with his She felt his emotions coming as an after image. She realized why, for a brief moment on the balcony she had held the bond by his will.

"...I..." He began.

"Shush..." She said softly. "...I won't let you drown…"

She leaned up and kissed him, he fell easily into that kiss. She moved to lay upon him, his hand moving down her back. The kiss broke with a groan from him. She nuzzled his throat, smelling the iron leaching out of his skin.

"...Humans…"

She put a finger to his lips. "Shush...Just feel…"

The kiss began again, their bodies moving. The kiss broke quickly, his breath coming in gasps. This game was going on too long for his tastes.

"...Please...I need…"

She stroked the hair away from his face, tracing the delicate bones of his cheeks and the scar across his face. Despite the loss of his eyes, he was still beautiful. He looked so vulnerable beneath her.

"I know, Nuada...I know..." She said. "...The time isn't right..." She stroked his cheeks again. "Does my touch disgust you...are you repulsed by the stoking of my body upon yours."

She released his hand as his breath came in gasps.

Without warning, his hands grasped her wrists, rolling to pin her beneath him. She looked up into his face, contorted in a mixture of lust and anger.

"...Do not say such things, human, not while you lie beneath me..." He snarled. "You do not know what you wake with your words…"

His breath was hot on her cheek. He released her wrists enough to guide her hands onto his body.

"...Let that beast sleep..." He whispered harshly against her ear.

He made a soft noise of pleasure when her fingers dug into his hips.

They lay there for the longest time, breathing. He didn't want to move, nor remove her hands from his body. He wanted to feel the lust heating his blood. He lay his head down beside hers, his body aching from the poison still coursing through it. She stroked his back, fingers sliding over silk. The question he asked came as a bit of a surprise.

"Would you take me within you." He asked softly. "Would you carry my seed to fruit." brushed his lips across hers. "...Even though I've hunted and killed your people for a thousand years…"

She gripped his back, pressing him to her. "I was raised among your people Nuada, I am one who understands, one who remembers…"

He breathed softly in her ear, then made a pained sound.

"Rest, sleep...I'm not going anywhere…"

He sagged against her, drifting into a pain dulling sleep. She soon followed, content with his weight upon her.


	13. I remember you...

_Jareth's study…_

The Goblin King watched a slightly distorted image of Nuada and Pen sleeping. He'd seen their interaction and the quiet questions they had asked each other. He would have averted his eyes if they had begun making love. He wished he could turn back time for them, to set things upon the right path, but that would involve someone wishing them away. He knew of no one who would even attempt that.

"...They grow closer, no thanks to Tam Lin's meddling." Jareth said too softly. "The Nobles are gone and for once they're alone to bond."

He would leave them be, giving the healers orders to knock before they entered.

_Nuada's chamber…_

Pen stirred, nuzzling against his skin, her hands moving up and down his back as she pulled up the silk to touch his skin. He stirred enough to murmur and endearment in Quinna before settling against her. She answered him with one in Serindin Still half asleep he whispered into her ear.

"...Touch…"

He rolled gently so that she lay on top of him. Her hands came up his sides to his chest beneath the silk of his tunic. His hands molded down her back, gentle caresses given on top. Her hands came up his sides to his chest beneath the silk of his tunic. His hands molded down her back, gentle caresses given in half-sleep. His arms came around her to hold her against his body.

His skin was warm beneath her fingers, the scares raised upon his flesh, muscles still hard twitching from her light touches. His lips parted in a groan, half in pain half in surrender. She stopped, her hand resting over his heart. She could feel the slightly raised scar, he whimpered when she traced it. She paused to kiss the base of his throat. He stirred more, his arms got tighter around her. She lay he head down, his skin still smelled of the poison leaching out of his body.

He stirred enough to indicate he was awake, he reached up to caress her hair and trace again the delicate curve of her ear. Disgust rose in his throat, but he shoved it down. The woman laying over him was the only barrier between him and the madness that had undone him before her arrival. Their previous argument had sharpened the pain of his failure. His fingers flexed, wanting to take Action.

"Pain passes..." She whispered hoarsely.

He frowned, she must have been singing for hours.

"...Have the healers bring you honeyed tea." He whispered, not wanting to break the quiet of the room. "You were as foolish as I, you should not have sung so long for me…"

"I promised not to let you go…"

He sighed. "...Why do you make such foolish promises."

She touched his hart again, he whimpered softly.

"It is all I can do." She said, nuzzling closer.

He knew it must have been painful for her to talk after the hours she'd spent singing him back from the veil. He wanted to place her beneath him and listen to her make soft pleasure noises. He wanted to pull the blanket from between them, press her body to his. His heart clenched, his disgust at humans rising. She had spoken of being raised among the fey, knowing of the plight humans presented.

Cast her off you...His disgust hissed

She has remained with me, clung with a will to keep me from the veil's edge His mind answered.

Filthy human, she shouldn't even be allowed to touch you

I feel something other than grief in her arms if it is lust so be it.

Her people destroy what the mother gives them, they are hollow, shallow beings.

She came from among mine and has remained upon the old ways.

A soft kiss stopped the internal argument. She shifted a bit, pulling away the blanket between them to slide beneath.

"...Are you sure that is wise..." He whispered as he felt her hands tug up his tunic.

She placed fingers upon his lips. "...I want to feel more skin beneath my hands."

He shifted so she could remove the silk from his upper body.

"...Tell me more of the enclave." He said. "Were there others who turned away from their own."

She spread her fingers as she stroked his chest.

"There were many." She whispered, not wanting to strain her voice. "We followed the seasons as closely as the Fey we shared the enclave with"

He let out a breath as her fingers traced over his stomach.

"We shared the great sabots with them, remembered the mother's grace."

She brushed her fingers lower, he gasped.

"Tell me of them..." He shifted under her. "...Tell me of the seasons outside cities."

She brought her hands up again, time was to be taken. She laid a soft kiss at the base of his throat.

"Each year a maiden, mother and crone were elected by lot, as were their male counterparts. Spring was green and lush, the smell of the earth as the small fields were tilled to plant crops to feed us. The maiden and the young god would go into the field, the cries of their lovemaking would echo for hours, both virgins before that day."

He placed his fingers against her lips. He remembered such a place, but it had been so long ago he had not connected it to the woman who lay beside him.

"I traveled from enclave to enclave while in exile, I remember one such spring..." He whispered softly. "No virgin I, but my best friend, Wink, insisted I enter the lottery...I was chosen and bedded a woman barely eighteen summers in a freshly tilled field. I bore the scars, evidence of her passion, upon my body. I remained there for a year. Upon Samhain night, I took her out into the barren field and bedded her one last time…"

He heard her breath catch and reached up to feel the gentle droplets of tears.

"...It was not until I was far from that enclave that I learned it was a human girl I bedded."

His mention of blessing the fields brought a memory.

"Wink was the first to me that the girl was carrying my heir...I did not know a faithful friend had other motives for his insistence for me to enter that lottery for that purpose." He stroked her face and wiped away her tears. "I returned to that enclave filled with anger at being deceived. I had every intention of demanding the child's termination." He trembled. "It was not until I heard her singing that I realize what I would have destroyed, no better than the humans I battled. She was singing Tam Lin, I learned later it was her favorite tune. I watched her for a short time before I began to teach her to wield blades gifted by my father to a young woman I have no doubt he knew was carrying his grandchild. It was not until his death did I know why Wink stayed with me, he was reporting to him of my welfare."

There was a long pause, simply touching each other.

"...I did a foolish thing the night my son was born." He said. "I remember her taking my hand and placing it on her swollen belly, telling me of the singular joy of feeling our child move. I did not believe it until I felt a small foot meet my hand." His voice held a melancholy tone. "I vowed then that my child would not live in a world spoiled by humans." He kissed her. "The night my son was born, I took him from his cradle...not wanting a human to lay a hand upon him.. Sadly, I fled...it was a short time later that I realized the mistake I had made. An elder was waiting for me when I returned. The only thing she asked me was what I had named him."

She touched his face, "and you said, Tam Lin…"

"It was the only name I could think of...and it seemed fitting since I took him from his world." He traced the outline of her face. "Fate put you in my path again." He took in a breath. "I should not have left, I would have had all I desired…"

She breathed a pained sigh. After all these years, here lay her beloved. She wondered if it had been the Elders' will that she was denied her child. She'd tell him from her memories from that time, of what she felt.

"...I remember the rite of sacred marriage, the words spoken over us by the Crone and Sage. It was upon a bed, days after the fields. I didn't stop touching you, scoring your skin with my nails." She murmured. "I think they knew you were no virgin, but you ere young and strong. All things the young god should be, gentle in your way too." Her lips were soft upon his throat. "...I remember laying above you in that barren field, trying not to cry out in our pleasure. You were gone from me that night, I could not have felt more abandoned." She reached up to touch the bandage upon his eyes. "...I do not know how your friend, found out I had become with child. The elders assured me when my moon cycle stopped, I was blessed by the gods. That is who my child was, a child conceived between god and maiden…"

His hands stroked her back, assuringly.

"...I did not know you were a Prince., nor that I would bear a princeling…"

He spoke very little of his Royal status in his travels. He had always wondered how Wink had gotten Medical supplies after his battles with humans or found them shelter when he was ill, now he knew. His father had leaked to each enclave of his exile and what was to be provided. Had his father provided him with the chance to sire an heir as well?

"...I was so happy to set foot in Bathmora." She said. "I sang for the princess and showered with gifts from the Nobles at court. Being summoned to the Goblin Forges surprised me. The design of the blades was so I could conceal them. I returned to the enclave, you wee there." She traced the scar across the bridge of his nose where it disappeared and emerged from the bandages. "You taught me how to wield my blades properly. I remember you insisting I stop when my belly began to swell. I refused, and you asked me why. "I placed your hand on my belly and told you of feeling our child." She reached behind his head to unfasten the bandage. "...The look upon your case when you felt him move, I'd never seen such awe."

The wounds were healing, her fingers traced over them. He let out a small sound, not quite pain.

"...I anticipated his birth as much as having you in my bed again." She said softly. "...They never returned him to me, nor did you return. I left my home shortly after, I could not remain without the two pieces of my life I so deeply desired. I took no other, despite being courted. Now here you lay...Fate giving you back to me…"

His body relaxed against the bed, breathing softly.

He had slid back into sleep as she had spoken. She watched him, wishing she could look into gold eyes and tell him how much she wanted to bed him again, take his seed deep inside and give him another child, a comfort to them both. She couldn't restore what was lost, the High King had maimed him so he couldn't challenge him for the throne. She could only give him a future where he lived and perhaps loved. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart tap against his rib-cage.


	14. Messages, quiet time and tea with

_The Tower room…_

Tam Lin managed to shift back into man shape, but his ankle was fastened to a chain threaded through an iron ring. Jareth had been too clever not anticipate his return to his true form. He brooded, looking at the door that had been bared to him. The choice had been simple, murder his sire or the High King would find and execute his mother in his sire's place.

The sting of iron had made for a fitful sleep. Jareth had come with food and water earlier that his parents were being left alone to form their bond. He had thrown the food tray at him. The water in the bucket he'd left tasted strange, and he'd cast it aside after a few mouthfuls.

It wasn't until he began to vomit that he knew what that strange taste was; Iron and nightshade. The death he'd planned for his sire could have easily been his, that was the message. By the time more water was brought, he was very dehydrated from vomiting up his guts and the profuse sweating. He guzzled it, easing his parched and raw throat. He had no time to register that it tasted the same as the last. He fell back onto the sweat-soaked straw; his eyes focused on Jareth's boots.

"...Death comes so easily." Jareth said. "Especially when helped along, think of this, Prince Tam Lin...while your death comes close enough to show you the veil."

He was left to lay nauseous in the straw.

_Nuada's chambers…_

The soft knock woke Pen, she whispered that breakfast had arrived. His arms slid away as she slid from beneath the blankets and padded toward the door. She opened it, a servant with a tray stood outside. She carefully opened the door a bit more, taking the tray. She wouldn't let anyone near Nuada after what had happened with the medicines. She closed the door and took the tray to the table. She painfully sang a few notes to ensure the food and drink were not tainted.

Preforming and then singing again for healing had made her near voiceless. Her soft whispers to Nuada had further irritated her throat. She was pleased to find a pot of tea, honey, and lemons among the items on the tray. She prepared a cup and headed toward the balcony to stand and look out over the labyrinth and the city. She heard the sheets rustle inside and a moment later heard him searching for her. She moved in long enough to catch his hand and guide him out to stand with her. His arms came around her, and he murmured a sleepy greeting as he nuzzled her neck.

"...I smell the tea." He whispered. "Finish it and come in...I did not ask you to leave my bed...Human."

She gave a small smile, sipping her tea. It was soothing, the honey was fresh. She kept the cup in one hand and turned in his arms. She pulled him down for a soft kiss.

"Honey..." He said, licking his lips. "If there is a pot of it, I could suggest some uses…"

She kissed him again, silencing any suggestion he could make. She put his hand against her cheek and shook her head

"Each need in time…"

Her throat was too sore to speak above a horse whisper.

"Would that I could turn back time, I would be king and we would be looking out over Bathmora…"

She ventured to speak. "Do not dwell upon the past…"

He knew her words were painful.

"...If I could gain my eyes afresh…"

She shook her head again, laying a finger upon his lips to silence him.

"...Come back to bed." He said, kissing the tip of her finger.

She smiled, bringing her mug to her lips, sipping more tea. She looked down, and gently placed her warm mug against his crotch. He gave a soft yelp.

"Evil human..." He said, stepping back a pace.

She gently touched his crotch with her mug again, backing him to the stone beside the doors. He found that warmth slightly erotic A third touch of the warm cup made him gasp, and then her lips against his. He pulled her against him, letting the lust heat his blood.

He eased back against the stone, panting. This reminded him that even as ill as he had been, lust still could flow easily as any poison. She nuzzled his chest, her hand warm from the mug was beneath his waistband, cupping something much warmer. His own hand was over hers, holding it in place.

"If you wish to see my skill with that lance..." He said, feeling her give a gentle squeeze. "Know it responds with just a touch…"

Her hand was curled around, her thumb brushed over the sheathed tip. That touch made his hips buck. Her hand pulled up, pulling him out. The cool air hitting warm flesh drew another gasp from him. She bent forward, her breath blew across. A hand went into her hair. He wanted her lips to touch, to taste. She pulled away, her fingers beginning to dance, sliding, tugging. This teasing would make consummation all that sweeter. It took only a few moments of her touch to realize that it had been far too long since he'd been touched like this.

She captured the sound of his release with a kiss, her fingers still dancing upon him. He sagged against the stone, panting as she covered him again.

"...I..." He began as her finger touched his lips.

"No, don't…"

He pulled her against him, letting his breathing slow. Her touch had been welcome, though all too brief for his taste. She moved slowly from his embrace and pulled him inside, pausing to close the doors and pushed him toward the bed. He stumbled back, letting her guide him.

The bed hit the back of his knees, he held her against him he fell backward. His fingers were in her hair as he heard the mug being set on the table beside the bed. He wanted her lips upon sensitive skin, her fingers roaming over his flesh.

"...Would that I…"

She put a finger to his lips, this was not a place to bring up regret. She lay upon him, sifting to seat herself. She could feel him regaining his arousal, knowing too long had he denied himself a woman's touch. She could feel him struggling.

"...There was no other..." She whispered to him. "You are the only one…"

His hands moved up her legs, to her hips, pulling her against him. The thin barrier of silk could not hide his pulsing need. He smiled up at her, as she lay her head on his chest.

"...I don't talk." He said stroking her hair. "...Just be here with me."

She felt him drifting off, but her soft kisses upon his chest focused his attention back upon her.

She smiled against his skin, she could almost hear him purr like a big cat. Her bringing his release on the balcony was only a step. The touch was only a brief respite. His breathing was soft as she continued to explore his exposed skin. He arched slightly into her kisses. She paused when she reached his navel, her tongue circled softly. He let out a soft gasp. She paused again when a fine dusting of short silver hairs met her lips. She knew elven males were quite different from human ones, body hair was almost non-existent, but hey did have it upon the same sensitive places as their human counterparts. She paused above the tented silk, reaching to hook her thumbs and pull it away to leave him naked to her gaze. His hands caught her wrists and he shook his head, pulling her up against his body.

"That has been teased to length enough this day." He whispered hoarsely. "The lust carries so far…"

She lay her hand on his chest, moving to lay at his side. She could feel him tremble, torn between the memory of her touch and disgust at having been aroused by a human woman. She rose, sliding from his grip.

"...Do not..." He said, tightening his grip on one wrist.

"Your disgust and hate are palatable Lord Silverlance, for lust you will allow my most intimate touch but after you turn from me as if I was something distasteful." Her voice raised barely above the whisper of before. "You tolerate my touch when lust is upon you but I offer you something else besides and you turn away."

She pulled her wrist from his grasp, stalking over to the table. Her hands trembled as she poured her tea. She heard his feet shuffle toward her, she pulled away when he touched her. A physical echo of his own disgust made him step back.

"Very well...Since you no longer desire my bed." He said, in a tone that cut. "Sleep by the fire…"

She heard him shuffle back toward the bed, leaving her standing at the table alone.

She finished her tea, retrieved her swords and left the room. She'd leave Nuada to himself for a while to understand his hate and disgust had no place when she lay beside him. She made her way to the formal garden. She drew her blades and began to move, hoping it would pull her mind off the very frustrating male she had left behind to brood. She lost herself in the blade's movement.

When she finished her Kata, she sat on a bench, looking at the ring circling her finger. He could not have noticed it, the three twisted bands gleamed in the light. How she wished for that ghost to come so she could actually talk to him.

"...He's being difficult again…"

She turned to see Jareth escorting Sara upon the path. Their child lay curled in Sara's arms.

"Yes, would that time be turned back for us." She said. "But it is a foolish wish, neither of us would be as we are now."

Jareth rarely met any human who understood that the smallest things could change an outcome so much.

"So you remember..." Jareth said.

She nodded. "He may have changed too much from the man I spent near a lifetime within one turning of the wheel."

"...I heard no sounds of destruction from his chamber, I think the silence is more disturbing."

"Some wounds take longer to heal...that of his hate will be one of those." She said and then wince.

"I've had the healers check on him." He said. "You shouldn't talk anymore this day. I may decide to announce another performance when Lord Silverlance has regained his health."

She let out a soft sigh, looking down at the ring about her finger.


	15. Healing and choices to make

_Sometime later…_

Pen returned to Nuada's chamber, her bedding had been arranged on a pallet by the fire. Her heart sank a bit upon seeing it. He was sitting in a chair, facing the window. She sat down on the hearth stool, tending the fire. If he heard her, he didn't respond. The chair creaked as he rose, softly seeking her, listening before making his way toward the fire. He came to sand before her, holding out his hand. She hesitated a moment before she took it.

"...Forgive this fool." He said softly, pulling her toward the pallet. "If you will not sleep in my bed, I shall come to sleep in yours…"

She was a bit surprised as she moved to kiss him, pulling him down to the thick quilts and blankets.

When she reached to pull the silk from his hips he did not stop her. He took her hands and guided them upon his skin as he began to undress her. She tried to remember what spots upon him would get him to shiver. When bare flesh met, both let out soft contented sounds. He reached down to part her thighs gently. Her knees came up and her legs wrapped around him. Both were anticipating the act to follow.

They lay naked in each other's embrace for what seemed a century before he lifted himself to take her. She reached down to guide him, moaning as his stiffened flesh slid through her fingers. Her hand moved to his hip, pulling him closer.

"...Perhaps come Beltain, we could find a field..." He whispered softly.

She gave a soft groan, her hand moved up his back and was joined by the other. He gasped softly when her nails brushed over the shallow cuts upon his back. He gripped the blankets on either side of her head, fighting the mixture of disgust, hate, lust, and need. Lust and need won out as he began to move.

She met him, their bodies moving slowly. Her fingers reached up to touch his eyes, he turned his head to kiss her palm. He wished he could see her face, to know her beauty again. The High King had feared him, what threat would he have been so soon after losing his sister, his soul. He pressed forward, burying himself in her. He heard her moan, its sound brought back many memories.

He remembered Wink's insistence of entering the lottery, to take his place among the other young fey males. The chanting of the maidens as they chose one of their own, choosing the young God's bride. He remembered being pulled from the circle to the chanting of the males, his clothes taken from him replaced with skins, antlers, and bells. He understood the weight of the antler crown then, what burden his father carried as they sat heavily on his head.

For that day he was no longer Nuada Silverlance, but the young God. The maiden shined, dark of hair and sweet of voice. He laid her soft body in the softer earth of the field, rutting like the stag he had been made. He could still hear the chants and her cries as her body took him deep within.

A bed days later, soft and tender they lay twined together. The sacred marriage rite was spoken over them. He'd had no ring to give his sacred bride, but it did not seem to matter to the elders. His body bore the evidence of her innocent passion, and the bruises from making love in the fields. He stayed through the year, until Samhain night…

He took her into the barren field that they had blessed in the spring. He laid himself to earth and pulled her upon him. He would bear bruises upon his skin, reminders of the woman who rode above him. It had been all too brief, release all too bittersweet. He'd said his farewells at the edge of the forests not knowing his seed had been planted short hours before.

"I should have stayed with you..." His voice lamented.

Her hands moved on his back, up his neck, and into his hair. He knew not to dwell upon the past.

"Your war tore a hole into your heart..." She breathed, arching to him.

Her words were true, he had become nearly soulless in his pursuit.

"...I sacrificed something that was the last of its kind…"

She put a finger to his lips. "...The past has no place here, only the present…"

He made a strangled sound and stopped, buried deep. Her hands returned to his hips and pulled him closer.

Release shook him, his fingers curled deep into the blankets beside her head as his cry filled the room, hers was nearly lost in his. He collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily. He vaguely felt the blanket brush along skin. Here he would sleep, though his body still ached and his heartbeat painfully against his ribs. His body went limp, a languid sleep rising up to claim him. Her touch along his back, over his ribs, he let that gentle touch pull him down. He knew no more for a long time.

Deep in sleep, Nuada dreamed, he heard someone singing. He knew that tune, but could not say if it was from his past or his present. He felt pain, but the notes pulled him along. He saw an outline of the singer, it sharped for a moment before blurring out again. He heard the notes falter, grow harsh and painful. He wanted to tell them to stop, not to wast their song upon him.

He felt a soft urgency pulling him up from sleep, his hips moved. He reached out to feel her skin against his own. He made a soft sound, arching as he let himself be pulled into wakefulness. Release brought him into full awareness. He smiled up at her for her morning greeting as she bent down to kiss him.

Laying in the afterglow, he felt strange as if something he couldn't remember had happened to him. She put a finger to his lips to quiet him.

"Shush..." She whispered. "Rest, don't speak…"

He lay back, the sensation grew sharper. He turned to her, his eyelids pulling open. All before his vision a blur. She reached up and gently closed his eyes.

"I restored your eyes, but not your sight...the King's Enchantment was too strong."

Her voice was harsher than before. She was sacrificing her voice for him, he shook his head.

"Don't, not for me…"

He felt a bandage go over his eyes again, to let them finish healing.

"Sleep, my dear love..." She whispered. "...You must live…"

He pulled her closer, surrounding her body with his warmth. At least, for now, he knew she would stay with him.

"As long as you follow me…"

She placed a hand upon his heart, her breath slowing into sleep.

_The Tower room…_

Jareth watched as Tam Lin crawled toward the tray and bucket he had brought. Cruel yes, but necessary. The young princeling had not eaten much in the last few hours. What he had eaten had ended up in the slop bucket along with most of the lining of his stomach. He wasn't actually going to kill Tam Lin, that would be a mistake of the highest magnitude. Not to mention would set off a war among the houses. A war of that scale he did not wish to think of, not with such a young child to be left behind. Though, he had no doubt Sarah would make an excellent regent.

He had brought tainted water each time, Blood now tinged the vomit splattering up from the slop bucket.

"...Why do you embrace death, do you not have pride that you are Nuada Silverlance's son."

Tam Lin took a mouthful of water and spit it out, though his lips were cracked and his throat bleeding. Jareth knew it was only a matter of time before he'd either collapse or bed.

"The High King won't be happy to know you failed, better to die here than return to court a failure. Is that it…"

Tam Lin spat blood upon his boots. The Goblin King looked down at the red splatter, nearly lost on black leather.

"...I should give you back to the High King, let him punish your failure." Jareth hissed. "Or expose you to your parents, let them know how low you stooped to keep a title that wasn't even yours."

Tam Lin made a sick sound, bloody vomit splattered to the floor.

"...I will leave you a little longer."

Jareth left, leaving Tam Lin to make his choice, live with the crime or die vomiting his guts out.

_A short time later…_

Jareth sat in his study, a snifter of peach brandy in his hand as he looked through a crystal. If the man had not already been ash, he would have cursed Balor to hell for this mess. The fading king had loved his rebel son no matter what he had done. From sending the Prince's best friend to keep an eye on him to set up the conception of a child, the old king had been looking out for his only male offspring. He remembered the High King's order to have Nuada Blinded, with the guard having no knowledge of how to blind him it had been a messy and distasteful act.

"...A true sacrifice made for healing." He laughed. "You underestimated the old king and his choices didn't you, Finnis…"

He smirked at the two in the crystal, at lease both were contented for now. He'd arrange another performance in a week or two. This time Nuada would attend and no doubt be defending his "lady".

He took a sip from the glass, rolling the flavor of peaches on his tongue. Sarah would enjoy another performance, as would he. He could boast that she "belonged" to his household. Though he knew the singer would hate that claim. He took another sip, the flavor always reminded him of his wife.

"...The king will be sending more assassins." Sara said, sliding into the room. "You've only detained one…"

He nodded, looking at his wife.

"As long as they refrain from appearing at Court, I do not think Finnias will feel threatened," Jareth said. "...And as long as the Singer remains by Nuada's side he is no threat at all."

"The contract said healing dearest, once he is healthy she has to go back to her life and the market…"

"He will go with her, of that I'm sure." He said. "Perhaps they will return to the Enclave and raise fine warriors for the fey…"

Sara sighed, her husband was still bent on a type of justice for the couple. Then again, that was the nature of the labyrinth itself.

"...We will see beloved..." Sara said and came to sit beside him.

He set the snifter down and turned all his attention to his wife.


	16. planting seeds

_Nuada's Chambers…_

Nuada stirred first, opening eyes he thought would never open again. He near panicked at the darkness that met his eyes until he remembered that they had been Re-bandaged to heal further. He reached over, expecting to touch her skin only to feel an empty space beside him.

"Singer…"

"I"m here..." She said, crawling in beside him. "I was just adding a bit more wood to the fire, it was going out…"

He pulled her close to his body, sharing its warmth.

"Do not leave me like that..." He whispered. "You frighten me when you do.”

She nuzzled close, her hands touching his skin. He caught one of her hands and placed it over his heart. This was the touch he craved. Before her, only his sister could touch him there. His hand held hers against the spot, her fingers spread over the scar.

"I belong to you, given by the mother's grace..." He said softly.

"Don't..." She whispered against his shoulder.

He caressed her hair, knowing they would have to leave this warm cocoon at some point and continue with his lessons. He would have to learn to move without being able to see.

"...We need to continue my lessons…"

She nuzzled his shoulder, kissing a spot on his collar bone. He let out a contented sigh, clinging to the lifeline she cast out for him.

The second time he woke, she was still beside him. Her hand had not moved, it still rested upon his heart. Her hand came up to touch his face. He gave her a small smile and kissed her palm. He knew she'd be silent for days, her voice strained to breaking. He'd seen it once in that year. She had sung to save the life of a child, a single human child. He had never seen a human willingly help another until her.

His war had taken him from his sister, his son and the woman who gave him a sense of peace. IF he searched, he had a bad feeling he would find the same hole he accused humans of having. He had filled that hole with hatred. He had been willingly resurrected a monster, to sacrifice the last Forest God out of petty anger. The most painful realization was that he had sacrificed Wink for hat same cause. In the end, it had been who had paid the ultimate price, choosing death to spot him.

The first memory had been waking in darkness and the loneliness of a sundered bond. He forced that memory from his mind and clung to the woman dozing beside him. She was his anchor in the storm of his life, and he would cling to her with what will he could muster.

"...Do not leave me..." He whispered to her. "Do not leave me to drown in who I once was…"

She nuzzled closer, holding him tightly not letting go.

Pen woke in Nuada's tight embrace, she could feel how tightly he was holding on. A feeling of introspection washed over her. He was thinking of all that had led him here. With a single touch, a few strands of that frayed bond had connected to her. That ghost had bound him to her. He paused in his introspection to caress her hair.

"...I should not dwell upon the past, only the present." He said. "...A bath would make me feel better."

Her finger touched his lips and slowly disappeared beneath the covers. He let out a soft groan that turned into a hiss of frustration when her breath brushed his groin. The soft kiss was one he did not expect, those that followed made him near shred the blankets beneath him.

Release and languid moments that followed were welcome. It gave him a reason to wish a bath, as the sweat dried upon his skin. She lay with her head against his shoulder. She was grinning like a cat who had gotten into the cream. Well, there had been a cream, of a sort. He let out a chuckle at the comparison, crude and human-like.

"...I'm glad I could please..." She whispered.

He smiled at her, longing to be with her beneath trees that had grown for centuries.

"...Would you take me back to your home, bed me beneath trees that will never know the bite of an ax…"

She smiled at him, tracing his lips with a finger. "We will raise our child there…"

The thought of another child, an heir to his father's house, pulled at his heart.

"...You shouldn't be talking..." He said softly. "Save your voice."

She nuzzled in, thinking of a child with his fierce will and her skills.

The knock of the servant bringing their breakfast drew Pen from the warmth of Nuada's embrace to answer the door. She took the tray and lay it on the table. She made to check the food for any taint when he came up behind her, turning her to kiss her.

"No talking..." He said.

She smiled, reaching for the pot of tea. His hand covered hers, she paused.

"...A mug of tea, a most delightful prelude..." He said in her ear. "Will you use it again to temper my lance…"

She gave a horse laugh and reached behind her to tease. His gasp told her the chill of her fingers was as much a surprise as the warmth had been.

"...Ice is not used in forging..." He chuckled in her ear.

She smirked and poured herself a mug, adding honey and lemon. She winced at the first sip, a little sharp against her sore throat. She headed toward the balcony, his hand rested on her shoulder trusting her to lead him out and back.

Pen was thankful the balcony looked out onto the gardens and not the city. Standing naked was not something one of noble blood did regularly. She sipped tea with him warm against her back. She vaguely heard the servants come in, draw a bath and leave fresh clothing. They needed to bathe, she more than he. She turned inside, leading him back.

She reached up to remove the bandages on his eyes once they were in the bathing chamber. She stepped in first, guiding him in. He tried to focus blurry vision, but that proved impossible. She reached up and touched along the bridge of his nose. He smiled, reaching out to her. By the time they were finished, the room was slightly damp.

He felt a square of toweling be thrown over his shoulders. He made to dry off, staying still as he was unfamiliar with what was around him.

"Come, let's get your hair dry and out of the way for today's lesson…"

She pulled her into an embrace, holding him as she dried his hair.

She felt him tremble, torn between pushing her away from him or holding her tightly. She stood still to let the storm within him pass. He let go, turning from her. She knew hate and disgust had won out for now. She continued dressing, letting him come to grips with what stood between them. She began to put her hair up; his hands caught hers.

"No, don't...I like your hair down..." He said, then turned from her again.

She turned to watch him moved toward the table, it looked like it would be one of few words.

_The throne room…_

Jareth sat on his throne in his favorite position, his legs draped over one of the arms. He watched through a crystal, Sara was off elsewhere in the castle riding heard over the nursery and their child. He remembered the look on Balor's face when he'd asked for that boon, a father worried for his only son. His fingers played with the crystal, moving it back and forth, much like the way he offered it to those who ended up in his throne room. So far Sara had been the only one to past all the tests. The crystal orb danced in his hands. He knew the High council and King would not be happy with the outcome of these last few days. They had sent Nuada to be punished, not to be redeemed. Instead, the assassin was locked in a tower room suffering the fate he'd planned for his victim. His leather gloves caressed the crystal, the image inside changed to look in on the assassin.

Tam Lin was doubled up screaming with poison cramps. He heard no begging, only pain. He had to admit the Princeling was holding up better than he'd expected. His gaze turned to look about the throne room, the goblins were nowhere in sight. No doubt they were offended by how clean the castle was. He would have to summon one to bring the Princeling some food, though it was most likely to end up in the slop bucket. No doubt clean water would go a long way, but the Princeling was so paranoid that it would end up spilled across the floor.

He made the crystal go dark, without any to run the labyrinth, watching the drama unfolding beneath his nose had drawn all his attention. Sara chastised him earlier about his meddling, but the boon was a serious matter. The house of Bathmora was owed by the Goblins and vice versa. The Goblin Forges had armed other Fey for ages uncounted; it was one thing the more intelligent Goblins excelled in.

"...Yer Majesty…"

He turned to see a legless goblin rolling toward him. The former Chief blacksmith of the forges rolled to a stop. He had been the Army's guardian for a very long time and rumored to know Death's angel.

"Goblin King…"

Speak of the demon, he thought as death appeared.

He swung his feet to the stones and rose, giving a short bow to the oldest of the endless.

"Lady D..." He said.

  
The tall leather-clad goth woman, inclined her head. The endless usually did not come to the summons of one such as the Goblin King, but this was a curiosity. No one had questioned the bargains the angel had made before. The Goblin gave an incline of his head, he had seen her many times since the army's creation.

"Good to see you, M'lady..." The Goblin said.

The lady was frowning

"Why have you summoned me, Jareth."

"Always to the heart of the matter..." He said. "Your angel...I wish to know what bargain she made with Princess Nuala…"

Death frowned, The princess had wept with relief and great sadness when she'd taken her across.

"You know I'm forbidden to reforge a bargain...The Princess made the bargain lawfully."

"I'm not looking to break that bargain, I only wish to know its nature.

"Their bond...for his life…"

Jareth frowned. "Then can the bond be remade with another?"

"You ask me, Goblin King, my brother Destiny would be better to answer that question." She said. "and I believe your kind is forbidden from his garden…"

He nodded, looking at the former Blacksmith. "Thank you Lady D, if you would be so kind as to pay a visit to the tower. I have a guest who needs a glimpse of the veil."

Death frowned. "I do not take orders, Goblin King."

"I know you don't lady Death, but he is close enough to the veil to touch your hand without trying. Your sisters are with him, I believe…"

Death turned and sighed, wondering what had possessed Delirium and Dispare to come to the underground.

_Nuada's Chambers…_

The lesson of the day was movement, how to move about without much sight. She slid the length of wood into his hands and slowly showed him how to use it. It did not take him long to navigate the room, reaching the privy and bathing room on his own. She quickly began on the hall, he ran into two doors before leaning to tap them before he moved.

If she didn't have to be serious, Pen would have laughed at the faces he made when he hit the doors. They were greeted as they moved up and down the hall. The healers were surprised to find Nuada moving up and down the hall on his own.

"...We've brought medicines Lord Silverlance..." One of the healers said.

Pen pulled something out of the pouch at her hip. A simple magnet would find iron in the powder.

"...I can see your caution Singer, but with the capture of the assassin there is no need."

She didn't listen to the healers, they had been deceived once who was to say that they couldn't be again.

The healers mixed the powders before her after she'd run the magnet over each. Nuada touched her face gently before he swallowed the herbs. He lay back and soon fell into a dreamless sleep. She sat close, touching his hand.

The healers worked over him, inspecting healing wounds and old wounds that had re-opened. She was shortly left alone with him. She quietly bared the door and moved to join him in bed. She would use the quiet to gather her thoughts and rest her body and voice.

She lay beside him, watching him sleep. She had done this many times in that year as well, laying at his side after the ceremonies. Her fingers reached to touch his face and brush away a few strands from his ear. She couldn't resist and leaned forward and softly nipped the point. She got a soft moan. She let a smirk grace her face and licked along the edge, another soft moan escaped his lips. She stopped, it wouldn't be fair to tease and not have him enjoy it. She lay down and snuggled close, she would be there when he woke.

_A few hours later…_

Nuada stirred, turning to find Pen curled against him. He let out a sigh as he moved to kiss her forehead. He remembered the words of the Sacred Marriage Rite, his heart clenched. For a year they had been lovers, an embodiment of the ancient ways. His fingers traced the delicate curve of her ear, he didn't even know what their child looked like. All he remembered was skin as pale as his own over little fists, the face lost in the protest of Hunger, soiled swaddling and cold. He had laid the child in an other's arms and walked away to carry out his war. He hadn't regretted it then, but he did now.

"...Would that I never left..." He said softly. "Would I have found the peace I sought?"

She stirred, snuggling closer. He reached out and pulled her against his body, feeling her hands gripping the silk of his tunic.

"...Months ago I would have pushed you away, but why can't I...are you the piece of my heart I left behind." He stroked her hair. "Will you fill the hole I've let open in my heart?"

She stirred, a soft murmur from her lips.

He pulled her close to him, clinging to her as one clings to a buoy in a storm.

Pen woke pressed against Nuada's chest. She nuzzled, receiving a low rumble from his chest in her ear. She looked up, his face was drawn into a frown. She reached up to touch his lips. He lowered his head to kiss her forehead.

"...Hello, little human..." He whispered. "Sleep well…"

She leaned up to kiss him, gripping his tunic tighter.

"...I will take that as a yes." He murmured.

"...I dreamed…"

He licked his lips, "What did you dream of little human…"

He could almost feel her smile.

"...Of you and I beneath the trees." She said. "Clothed only in sunlight, planting seeds…"

His heart clenched, "I hope they were fertile seeds…"

She stroked his face. "They were fierce like you, strong warriors for their people…"

"...You would have joined my war, wouldn't you…"

She smiled. "There are others such as I, who wish to see the earth restored and to live with her seasons."

"How many…"

"More than one would expect, and less than armies."

He stroked her hair, thinking of what that meant.

"Would your people have kept to my father's treaties…"

She didn't know the answer to that, no one could know until it happened.

"...You cannot answer that, and I shouldn't ask you to."

"Nuada...Lord Silverlance…"

He touched her face. "...Pen…"

She pulled gently until he covered her with his body.

"...We may not have trees or sunlight...but we can plant seeds…"

He gasped softly as her hands pulled up his tunic.

"...We have only darkness, no plant survives in darkness." He said but made no move to stop her.

"...Seeds germinate in darkness, and we will be the only light our seeds will need."

His hands moved to pull at her clothing as she tugged at his. For this moment all save her could be forgotten.

They moved slowly as the roots of the ancient trees. Lust, need and longing mixed as they tangled in the sheets, binding themselves closer. He ended up beneath her, his fingers clasping her hips against him. She clung to him, reveling in the feel of his body against hers. He kept his hands upon her hips, moving in a rhythm as old as life. He did not know if the seeds they planted would germinate or grow, but he would plant as many as he could in hope for his own people. Their dance continued, time standing still. His bellow of release covered her cries.

She lay upon his chest, listening to his heart slow. He held her as his body calmed. She traced patterns on his chest, content. A small nuzzle turned his attention to her.

"...Our sees will grow." She said.

He held her tight against him, hoping that was true.


	17. Taking root

_Two weeks later…_

Jareth announced a second performance, this one more planned than the last. Invitations were sent to all of the noble houses and eagerly accepted. It was a rare treat for a singer to perform outside of an enclave. The fact that it was the Goblin King hosting such an event seemed to be lost among the excitement. The more Jareth made Pen appear she was content and pampered in his household no one would question her association with Nuada Silverlance. After all the Fey Lord was a "guest" in his household. He knew his invitation would reach someone in the present Royal house, and thus to the High King. He would be ready to show the High King that with the singer close, Lord Nuada was no threat, all the better to see justice done.

Pen and Nuada did little in those two weeks, save learn and make love. They seemed inseparable, constantly murmuring or touching each other. Anywho had eyes could see they were well on their way to being of one heart. They didn't seem to notice the flurry of activity around them, only the requests to come to the tailor to be fitted for formal attire. Pen took note that the fabric was in the formal colors of House Bathmora…

Pen knew another performance was coming when she saw Jareth talking to a foppish fellow in the livery of the High King. She hastily moved Nuada out of the messenger's sight, the less the Nobles saw of Nuada before the banquet the better. Jareth nodded and made a gesture, continue on and do not worry.

Their first excursion out into the gardens ended up with him basking in the sun on a bench with her leaning against him. He sighed as he stroked her hair, thinking of the announcement Jareth had made, he was eager to hear her perform in a formal setting. The promise she would be wearing his house colors lightening his heart. He had clung tighter to her since the night they had "planted seeds", a strong promise as he heard her speak of the dream. Though he was not sure that even the most fertile of humans would nurture the seeds he'd planted.

Pen did not tell Nuada that her monthly courses had not come with the passing of the moon. His seeds had taken root, buried deep in her fertile womb. She knew the corsets would have to be laced less tightly and eventually done away with altogether. By that time, she hoped she would be fully bonded to him.

As the time for her to perform drew near, Pen grew restless. The first twinges of morning sickness went unnoticed in her anxiety. She did not know if Nuada could sense something, but he had begun not letting her go more than ten steps from him. He was possessive, but not in the same way he had been with his sister. This possessiveness was comforting, knowing she'd be protected if any attempted to attack her directly.

_Two days before the performance…_

Nuada knew his little singer wasn't feeling well, it had become obvious to him when she'd slid out of his arms in the early hours to be violently ill. At first, he thought it was due to her nervousness, but when it continued for over a week, he used his keen senses to find out what was making her so ill. His heart nearly stopped beating when he detected something small curled in her womb. A tiny life, not yet sentient, hardly more than a flash upon his senses. He pulled her close, no one would lay a hand upon her or their child.

The darkest part of him began to whisper that he should kill that small life, for it would taint the blood of Bathmora. It also whispered he should kill Pen for daring to taint their blood. He shoved that side deeply, he would slit his own throat before he harmed her or the child sleeping in her womb. He covered her belly with one hand, with this one he would not walk away as he had done with their firstborn.

_The night of the performance…_

Pen was attired in red and black silk, the diadem holding her hair had blood rubies and Onyx stones. Nuada had presented her with a pendant with a large near black garnet he had made in her honor. She would wear it as it matched the theme of her dress. She received many hostile looks when she appeared with Nuada resting his hand upon her shoulder.

They would be seated at the High Table, next to Queen Sarah as the seat next to Jareth was occupied by a noble representing the High King. Pen would be performing before dinner and then again just after. She seated him and arranged his plate. His hand caught hers, she leaned in so they could quietly converse before she went to stand upon the dais.

"...Keep your blade close." He said.

"I know dear love..." She said. "I have preformed for more zealous crowds…"

She softly kissed the point of his ear and went to begin.

Nuada sat calmly, listening to Pen's performance. It was so unlike what she had sung for him. The notes seemed to pull emotion from those listening rather than soothe. He could hear a few grumbling about the songs she had chosen. To him they were wise selections, to show off her talents.

"...She sings as an angel doesn't she Lord Silverlance." Said someone to his right.

He turned his head. "Yes, the singer has a wonderful voice."

"Shame she's human...she'd make a great Lady…"

If it had been another place and time he would have agreed with the speaker.

"She is a lady." He said.

There was a snort of laughter.

"Amazing, the great Nuada Silverlance defending a human…"

His hand itched to punch the face attached to the voice.

"I have learned many things in my exile." He said. "She is only one human, of little consequence."

"There are rumors that King Jareth bought her from the Singer's Guild…"

"I assure you, his Majesty is quite smitten with his queen." Sarah's voice cut in. "I'm sure you have other minds to poison, Garth…"

There was a sharp hiss and the man was gone.

"...One of Jareth's relatives?" He asked softly.

"A minor kingdom, Princess Sendril, and her consorts are attending tonight," Sara said.

"I have heard of her." He said, "She is one of the Unseelie…"

"...No, they are from Sanctuary." She said. "though officially…"

"Spreading gossip, Sarah...So unlike you." Jareth said, leaning in. "The singer is almost finished. Lord Rajura wished to attend, it appears he heard her sing for the courts some years ago...Before he was granted the Princess' hand."

Nuada nodded, as Pen came and gave his ear another kiss. He tried hard not to give a reaction, wishing to keep their interaction somewhat discrete.

"...I see Princess Sendril is the topic of conversation." Pen said as she sat. "...The rumors of the three of them are rife tonight."

"I thought Singers did not involve themselves in Fey or mortal affairs…"

Pen laughed softly. "...We do not meddle, it does not mean we know nothing of them."

A red-haired male came to the table and bowed. It was traditional to ask for permission to bestow a gift upon a Singer, usually through their patron.

"Lord Shuten..." Jareth said.

"King Jareth..." He said. "...I wish to bestow a gift upon the singer."

Jareth nodded as Pen stood to receive the gift from a man many rumored was once an Oni.

"Thank you Lord Shuten..." She said. "Tell Lord Rajura t that his past gifts have been most welcome…"

Shuten nodded and turned back to his lady and co-consort. Pen returned to her seat.

"You seem to know both The Oni and the Illusion spider..." Jareth said.

She sighed, had it really been only months ago that she'd sung for The princess Sendril.

"I met the princess formally a few months ago..." She said. "I met Shuten and Rajura when I was an apprentice."

Jareth let the matter drop, he'd bring it up again in a more appropriate setting. Now was not the time to find out how Pen knew of the most elusive men he'd ever had the chance to meet.

"...So singer, do you like the hospitality of the Goblin King..." Chimed in the man to Jareth's left.

Pen smiled. "...Quite."

"When your contract is done here, perhaps you will come to entertain the High King."

She quietly slid her hand into Nuada's and squeezed softly. He squeezed back, drawing his thumb along the back of her hand.

"...It is hard to say." She said. "The Guild might have another contract already drawn up, my engagements are limited."

"A pity, you would be a jewel at court…"

That was what Pen was afraid of and one of the reasons she didn't Preform very often for any manner of Nobility.

"The lady turned down the offer..." Jareth said. "If the High King wishes to hear her perform, take it up with her guild."

The man made a noise that showed his annoyance. Dinner passed much in this manner.

Pen was eager to do her second set and get a dance with Nuada. This time in the flesh, she wondered what had caused the "ghost" to appear. Perhaps it was because he truly loved her, or perhaps it was another part of himself he'd buried in his long war. That part of him had not forgotten, nor abandoned the vows he'd taken.

Her songs for the second set were ones of loss and sorrow. One of her favorites laments "Banks of the Lee" flowed from her lips in the female version, where it is the young lady mourning for her love. "Bonny Portmore" followed, as did "She Moved Through the Fair", "The Unquiet Grave", "The Trees they do Grow High" finishing with "Parting Glass." She stood to accept the applause and hurried back to the table as the mistrals began setting up to play.

Nuada smiled when she whispered they should dance, she'd lead. He quickly agreed as it would give him an excuse to touch her in public. He could feel the stares upon them as they waltzed around the room. She leaned into him, her head nearly on his shoulder.

"Let us find a spot, I grow weary of these backbiting fools." He whispered into her ear. "...I believe Jareth spoke of having the garden torch-lit this night."

She smiled at him. "someplace to talk…"

He nodded. "Lead the way, my dear love."

She led him out into the garden, and to a bench slightly out of sight of those in the Banquet Hall.

She guided him to sit first and then followed. He pulled her close, caring not if they were found. She made a contented sound as she nuzzled his neck.

"...Princess Sendril wasn't the only topic of conversation tonight." He said. "Wither not I have bedded you seemed on the lips of every other person…"

She laughed softly, "Thad deed has already been done."

He offered her a small smile. "...True. Jareth seems to be hiding something from us."

She sat up slightly. "I know, but what or whoever it is he has a reason."

"It disturbs me that our host is keeping secrets on matters that would concern us."

She sighed and began humming. He recognized the tune as a lullaby, one she'd sung to him the day she'd arrived.

"...We spoke not long ago of planting seeds." He said, changing the subject.

She took one of his hands and placed it upon her still flat stomach, holding it there. There was a small flash upon his senses again, still not sentient but growing.

"...Ours grow, rooted deep and strong."

He could not help but smile, with Tam Lin she had been two months along by the time he had returned. He had never gotten the chance to feel this...beginning.

"...So they are." He said. "Sleeping in darkness and warmth…"

She smiled, lifting up his hand to kiss his palm. He moved it to cup her face, rubbing his thumb along her lips.

"Would that I could make you my lady…"

"Am I not already?" She asked softly.

"The High King would never agree to it." He said. "I am an exile, stripped of all but my nobility…"

She leaned up to kiss him. "...The title does not matter, and as a Singer, I cannot carry one."

She heard him give a soft sigh and lay his forehead against hers.

"I desire to be of one heart with thee." He said. "To make my bond with you…"

She touched his face and shook her head. "...your emotions are still raw."

He leaned down and kissed her. "Not all of them."

She felt a slight afterimage of longing, and of contentment.

"Those I have long known..." She whispered. "We should go back to the hall, Jareth seems over-worried…"

He nodded quietly, rising and waiting for her to lead him back into the noise and gossip of the hall.


	18. I Defend thee

_In the Banquet hall…_

Jareth had watched Pen and Nuada leave the hall, no doubt to talk privately. He was hearing rumors that Nuada was an easy target now that he was blind, a broken man. He doubted that with Pen at Nuada's side any challenging him would find themselves on the end of a foot and a half of silver encased iron. The first rumor was easily dispelled, but the second the one that whispered that the High King had sent another assassin disturbed him.

"...Still thinking that there is a dagger pointed at your Guest's back." Said a thin voice beside the Goblin King.

"I do not put anything passed that bastard..." Jareth said.

"You should have a care for the Singer...there are those who would love to prove humans are hollow, selfish creatures."

"The Singer can care for herself..." Jareth said. "What of my other guests?"

"...He does not beg, nor has he moved...though he's taken to crying out."

"I will see to him after the banquet."

"As you wish, but I would keep a sharp eye...the Singer and Lord Silverlance are returning and attracting some undo attention."

Jareth turned his attention to the doors leading to the garden, seeing the two enter into a small knot of courtiers.

Pen saw them first, shifting to put Nuada behind her. He pulled her against him. The courtiers closed in around them. Pen's fingers flicked, low and out of sight, the hilt of her dagger slid into her hand.

"...How much for the whore, Lord Silverlance...so that I may compensate you for her loss…"

Nuada let out a low growl, how dare they insult his lady.

"See the dog still growls, but where are his fangs…"

Pen could feel his anger, it was beginning to mirror her own. The courtiers pushed in tighter, daring one of them to take action. She knew if she struck out at one of them, she could be brought up on charges of "laying hands on one of the blood". For her, such a charge would mean she would be confined by the Singer's guild, and confinement would mean she would lose both Nuada and her child.

"...Give us the woman Silverlance and you can go about your way."

Nuada pulled her closer, growling more.

One of the courtiers lunged toward Pen with what looked like a two tined fork. In the next instant, her back was to the doors. Nuada stood before her, an expression of pain on his face moments before he collapsed to his knees. Pen went to the floor with him, glaring at the circle around them. She let a feral grin adorn her face, one chance.

"...Jareth!" Pen shouted over the din of the minstrels.

Nuada lay his head on her shoulder, trying to whisper something to her. She couldn't hear what he was saying as she was blocking out the afterimages of pain.

"Don't talk..." She whispered.

The Courtiers closed in tighter, intending to finish what they had started. If they succeeded both would be left as corpses upon the hall floor with all swearing to have been elsewhere.

Jareth had heard the Singer shout, and near leaped over the table to reach the stricken Fey Lord and his companion. He started pulling bodies away and tossing them to the side, he reached them just as Nuada completely collapsed against Pen.

"...Get the healers." Jareth barked to the nearest goblin, then came to see what he could do.

Within moments, the healers cleared everyone away. With great care they carried Nuada out, flat on his stomach, blood staining the makeshift bandage of Jareth's shirt and Nuada's sash.

"...He took the blow that was meant for me." She said, a bit later in Jareth's study.

Her fingers were still stained with Nuada's blood from having helped Jareth pull the instrument from Nuada's back.

Jareth frowned, having replaced his shirt with one much less flamboyant and more utilitarian. He was concerned by the fact that such an act had been attempted in his own banquet hall.

"...A foolish act, you should have called for me when you entered."

Pen looked down at the caramel color staining her hands, a reminder that Nuada was so much different.

"...But what is done, is done." Jareth said laying a rag in her hands. "...You must have Fortune for a sister, that you didn't strike out."

"I know what the sentence would be Your Majesty, and I do not wish to lose my lover or child to something so petty as a bruised ego."

Jareth laughed softly, She knew the politics of the court better than most.

"It would be best if you were not seen in Nuada's company for a time. I fear there are those who would use you to make life...difficult for him. You are also valuable to your guild, and I do not wish to pay the fines if you turn up harmed."

Pen wanted to scream it was not fair, but life was never all that fair.

"My contract is ended then?"

Jareth smiled, placing a small glass of Peach juice in front of her. He'd been more observant than he'd let on in the last month.

"...No, it is not," he said. "Lord Silverlance is gravely injured…"

She looked at Jareth with an odd expression.

"...How can I...if you…"

"Simple." Jareth took the hand that had the ring upon it. "...This is a wedding band. One that was long overdue."

"The sacred marriage..." She said.

"Yes, those vows still stand, if I am not mistaken..." He said. "He never came to the elders to have you officially parted…"

She looked down at the ring, three strands. Each strand representing a face of the Goddess.

"...I see, his companion cannot be seen, but his bride…"

"Correct, The singer is needed elsewhere in my castle." He said perching on the desk. "My fosterling is gravely ill, and has refused healers…"

She breathed a sigh of relief, she would not be forced to leave her lover.

"I will have you brought to him in a few hours...I suggest you spend some time with your husband, for he needs you now."

She nodded and rose. Jareth held out his arm, he'd escort her to Nuada's rooms.

Jareth left Pen at Nuada's door and headed to the tower room. Tam Lin lay upon his back in the fouled straw, blood trickling from his nose and mouth; eyes unseeing. He went to kneel beside the princeling, bushing back the sweat-soaked hair.

"...Why don't you ask." He said. "A word and the pain stops…"

Tam Lin tuned his head painfully, he didn't even have enough moisture or strength to spit. He pulled out a flask, the princeling's eyes went wide.

"...It is clean, rainwater..." He said, taking a small sip.

Tam Lin struggled to sit up, wanting to believe that Jareth wouldn't poison himself.

"...I'll get you cleaned up, and have a healer brought." He said, lifting the princeling from the straw to drink. "...Just a little bit now. Too much and it won't do you any good."

Tam Lin guzzled the water, letting it soothe his aching throat. He smiled, wondering what the Princeling would think of the healer he was going to bring.

_Nuada's chambers..._

Pen had taken the stool beside the bed, while the healers poked and prodded the two neat puncture wounds upon Nuada's back. He did not stir while they did this, only took in pained breaths. Whatever the "fork" had actually been, it had been driven deep into the muscle and had scraped against bone.

"...The wounds are deep," the head healer said. "Through the muscle as far as we can tell, he was lucky enough to have held his breath or the damn thing would have gone through his lung."

"Will he wake this night?" She asked.

"...No, the numbing herbs are strong and he lost a lot of blood." The head healer said.

"His majesty has other duties for me this night, and I do not wish to be absent when he wakes up."

The head healer nodded, his expression grim.

"It will be a day or so. We will summon you if he wakes before then." He said. "His majesty must have a great task ahead if he requires you."

"...Of that, I have no doubt." She said.

Jareth himself came to the door, he would take no chances of her being lost or attacked.

"It is time to go, Singer. Your new charge awaits…"

She rose, looking back at Nuada, breathing painfully in his drugged sleep then went to take Jareth's offered hand.

Jareth watched Pen's gaze linger on Nuada before she came to accept his offer of an escort. He'd bring her back to these rooms in due time.

"...I would warn you." Jareth said, leading her up to a much-changed tower room. "He may think you a dream…"

Having come to the tower room moments after leaving Pen at Nuada's door, he'd a chance to tidy up so to speak. Tam Lin now lay upon a low cot, finely woven tapestries cut the chill of the walls and rugs lay upon the floor.

"...How long has he been like this?"

"A day, perhaps two...He took ill shortly after the healers discovered Lord Silverlance was being poisoned. I Believe he received some of the same medicines...He has refused healers until I summoned you."

Pen took a few steps forward, the thick rug muffling her footsteps. She knelt down, her heart aching as she got a good look at Tam Lin. He looked so much like his father.

"...You were forbidden to tell me." was all she said, watching Tam Lin breath painfully.

Jareth knew with remembering what Nuada had been to her, she would remember more meeting their son.

"Yes, I regret that I was," Jareth said. "...He is as stubborn as his sire."

She smiled, gently pushing back the dark hair wholly inherited from her. Eyes as green as her own opened and parched lips parted but no sound came forth.

"Go back to sleep." She whispered. "...The pain will end soon."

A trembling hand rose from the blanket, attempting to push her away. He did not want her here, not after what he had done. A raw, mew issued from his still raw and bleeding throat.

"...Has he taken anything in the form of sustenance?" She asked, catching his hand.

"We've attempted it, but it ends up in a basin a few moments later," Jareth said. "...He's even refused water in the last few hours."

She saw how fever bright Tam Lin's eyes were, drawn to pinpoints. The hand in hers pulling back, fear and terror etched on his face.

"...C-clean..." Tam Lin managed. "W-water…"

"Shush..." She said. "Have clean water sent up, I will see if I can get him to drink…"

Jareth nodded, figuring it would be best to leave mother and son alone for a short time.

_Royal chambers…_

Sara watched Jareth come in, and plop backward on the bed. He looked like he'd run his own Labyrinth. Seeing the Singer kneel down to touch her son with such tenderness had disturbed him greatly. Again he silently cursed Balor for asking for that boon.

"...I take it Pen is settled in Tam Lin's room." She said.

He stared up into the canopy, he was going to wring Finnias' neck if he got a chance to lay a hand upon the royal patronage.

"She is looking after him." Was all the Goblin King said. "...He tried to push her away."

"...I take it she knows."

He nodded, as she came to sit beside him.

"...It was as if her presence compounded his guilt." He said shifting to lay his head in her lap.

"If you knew your mother would be dragged to the block for something she had no part in, wouldn't you have done the same?"

"I would have told the bastard to go to hell and then planned the rescue party."

Sara sighed. "He is a boy and I doubt he knew that the law would not allow the High king to condemn an innocent person."

There was a long silence before she spoke again.

"Will you tell Nuada that it was his own son who tried to kill him under the High King's orders?"

"No, I will not complicate things further for them."

"What will you do then?" Sara asked, stroking his unruly hair.

She got no answer, he looked up at her with mismatched eyes.

"My poor husband." She said. "You try to fulfill your promise and look where it has led you…"

He let out a sigh and curled closer to her. "...Balor was a good friend, a fair king he knew what would happen if Nuada never gained the throne."

"You would have fought to place him there wouldn't you."

"Yes, I would have stood as I did beside his father."

Sara ran her fingers through his hair again, wondering how far he would take his loyalty to an old friend.

"Let us talk of happier things." She said.

He sighed, "Perhaps a visit to your brother would be in order…"

She smiled, she enjoyed seeing Toby and he'd just adore his nephew.

"I'll make arrangements..." She said softly.

He could not help but worry more, as they would be gone for some span of time.

_The tower room…_

Pen was softly singing the ballad of his namesake to Tam Lin, watching his chest rise and fall in sleep. She stopped and put a hand to her belly, feeling suddenly ill. She knew it was not uncommon for women to be ill at any time of the day during their pregnancy. She deposited her dinner in the chamber pot and returned to Tam Lin. The young man stirred, but only enough to dislodge the wet rag upon his brow.

"...Shush..." She said, catching and re-wetting the rag. "It's ok…"

She thought of Nuada, she could see so much of him in their son save for his dark hair and green eyes. Her hand trembled as she laid the rag back in place, for a decade she'd been denied her child. It hurt to look upon him, she didn't even know what she would say if he were to speak to her again. So many emotions ran through her, all of which she shielded.

She should have been angry, but she could not be. Not without pulling Nuada's fragile emotions into it. She got up and paced around the room, so many things because of one man's fear. She wanted to be back at her lover's side. She smiled at that, in less than a month they had gone from strangers to lovers. At first, she had offered him comfort to distract him from his grief, but the memories had made that comfort something more. Now expecting a child, she couldn't help but think of him as a lover. He had offered her to be of one heart with her, to take her and bind her to his life. They would have to speak more, to become of one heart the bond had to be completed.

_Royal chambers…_

Jareth left Sara quietly sleeping in their bed and padded to his wardrobe, choosing a more utilitarian outfit than his usual flamboyance. The clothes he wore as the Goblin King was meant to inspire terror and awe, these were for comfort and doing everyday things He tied his hair back, not bothering to tease it up as he usually did. He gave Sara a soft kiss, then leaned into the bassinet and laid a light kiss on his son's forehead. He had to check on the Singer, she had Tam Lin had been left alone long enough.

_The Tower room…_

Pen was softly singing a lullaby when Jareth entered. She turned to see the Goblin king looking quite "normal" and it surprised her. He offered her a soft smile before offering her a small bun filled with meat and cheese wrapped in cloth.

"...eat," he said. "Sara used to find them a tolerable meal when she was pregnant…"

She laughed softly, she knew the Goblin king kept close tabs on those in his care.

"...Thank you." She said softly. "I'm sure I will too."

"How is he?"

"Sleeping, though it's taking longer for me to sing the iron out of him than it did Nuada…"

Jareth looked at her. "and sang yourself near useless. You cannot do that now…"

"I know that all too well." She said, unwrapping and taking a small bite of the bun. "...I have seen singers miscarry because they pushed their voices too far. I do not wish such an end for my little one."

He nodded, producing her cloak. "Even with the tapestries, it gets cold in here."

He laid it upon her shoulders, feeling odd fussing over a woman in another man's place.

"Thank you, I wondered where this went." She said.

"When Nuada wakes, I'll escort you back to his side." He said. "I will have the other healers looking after Tam Lin."

She nodded. "Will you tell him I was here?"

"If he wishes, though I assure you he's more likely to try to take a bite out of my hide."

She sighed. "I take it he does not like to be fostered here."

"Something of that nature," Jareth said. "I will leave you once again, I have my own son to attend to."

She nodded, pulling her cloak around her slender form.

_Nuada's chamber…_

The Fey lord began to rouse, but for a few moments. It was long enough to know his little singer wasn't at his side. The fact that she wasn't there roused him further. He tried to rise, a sharp pain forced him back. He remembered the courtiers and moving in front of her using his body to shield her.

"...Singer...my little human..." He groaned. "Where is she…"

"off on an errand for his Majesty..." One of the healers said.

He tried again to rise, he had to find her.

"That is not wise Lord Silverlance, the wounds are deep."

"Bring her to me, bring me, my little human…"

The healers restrained him, warning him how injured he was.

"Someone call for his Majesty...the Singer must be found..." The head healer shouted, pinning one of Nuada's arms to the mattress. "Before Lord Silverlance harms himself…"

One of the apprentice healers hurried out, hoping to catch the Goblin King in a good mood.


	19. calm before the storm

_The Royal Chamber…_

Jareth frowned, as he rose from the rocking chair. The chair was a device he was still leery of, but Sara had insisted and he'd given in. He'd quickly seen it's merits after the first few days of rising with his son. He tucked his son back in before he turned to the servant.

"...What is it." He snapped, but low enough not to wake the Goblin Prince.

"Lord Silverlance has awakened, he is calling for the Singer."

He shook his head, the elves were among the most stubborn of Fey.

"I will retrieve her, keep him to his chambers." He said. "I will arrive there shortly.

The servant nodded, letting the king gain some composure.

_A few moments later, the tower room…_

Jareth calmly opened the door, as Pen rose from the stool beside the bed. She knew why he had come, Nuada was awake.

"...He called for me." She said, adjusting her cloak around her.

"Yes," Jareth said. "I'll bring you to him before he hurts one of the healers."

She nodded, knowing Nuada would no doubt try to reach her.

"We should hurry." She said softly. "Despite all appearances, he is still fragile, if he thinks I've abandoned him…"

Jareth was surprised by this, from what he'd been seeing Nuada seemed stable.

"He…"

"There is only a thin wall between him and madness." She said. "I built that wall, no matter how thin.." She moved toward the door. "Let us just go…"

Jareth nodded, offering her his arm to escort her.

_Nuada's chambers…_

It took them only moments to reach The doors, Jareth had taken Pen through some of the secret passages that ran like veins through the castle. The healers were worried, the more they'd tried to hold down the Fey lord the more he struggled.

"...Thank the Gods, You've come."

Pen nodded and quickly entered. A few moments later, all sounds of struggle stopped and a thin sobbing issued. Jareth entered first, fearful that Nuada had done something very very wrong.

He came to see Pen holding Nuada against her as she rocked him, murmuring soft endearments in both Gaelic and Serindin. She looked up to the Goblin king and shook her head, not wanting him to come any further. He calmly backed out, letting her handle this.

"...Do not disturb them." He said. "if anything is needed, it will be asked for."

The healers nodded in agreement, better to let someone who knew how this was to be handled to take care of the situation.

_Jareth's study, a short time later…_

A still very ill Tam Lin sat in one of the velvet chairs, his eyes closed as if the short journey from the tower to the study had exhausted him. Jareth set a small goblet on the table beside him.

"...Why did you bring her." Tam Lin asked, his hands still trembling as he reached for the Goblet. "I didn't want her there...now the High King will make her a target."

"Do you truly think I would let Finnas lay a hand on her," Jareth said. "You've spent too much time in the High Court. This is the one kingdom he must again permission to enter."

"...you mean they must be invited in?"

"Yes, by a citizen of the Labyrinth...which last I checked no one would let Finnas set foot upon our borders. The mixture in the goblet will complete the purging of iron from your system."

"...Then my punishment ends?"

"No, my punishment of you ends." Jareth said. "you still have a long way to go for absolution, you must make your peace with your parents. Now that your mother knows who you are, it will not be long before your father does."

Tam Lin turned his head away, that was the one thing he'd feared. He had been there when his sire had been blinded, all but handed the blade to the bastard that did it.

"...There was a reason Finnas sent you here with him, what was it, Tam Lin?" Jareth asked. "...you were to insure he would never leave my castle, weren't you."

Tam Lin's hands trembled more, his fingers curled to form a fist. Jareth caught the weak attempt at a strike in a strong grip.

"That was foolish," Jareth said. "you truly do want to die don't you. I'm sorry Tam Lin, you won't find that wish in my domain."

"I-I want to go back…"

Jareth nodded and summoned two guards to return Tam Lin to his tower room.

As the Princeling left, Jareth noticed the goblet near untouched on the table. He picked it up and flung it across the room to have it shatter against the mantle. He should have sent the boy back, protesting Elders or no. Now he had the problem of what to do with him, he was too old to have the spells placed upon him; to kill him would bring war, to dip him in the bog would just be a mess. He growled in frustration, almost glad that he and his family would be gone for a short time. He would leave Hoggel in charge.

Jareth knew Hoggel was older than he looked, having been a gardener in his father's day. He had enjoyed teasing the dwarf as a child and now it was a habit. The dwarf's general grumpiness usually dropped when he did, more toward annoyance. He sat on his desk and sighed, he could near damn Balor for this.

"...It wasn't fair." He said. "You should have known, but then perhaps you did."

He summoned up a small snifter of brandy, savoring the taste of peaches. He summoned a crystal.

"Show me Nuada and the Singer…"

The crystal showed Pen still with her arms around Nuada. He was breathing evenly in sleep again, she looked like she was going to follow.

"You exhaust yourself for him, have a care for the little one you carry..." Jareth said, taking a sip of brandy. "...I should tell Hoggel to keep an eye on her. To make sure she doesn't strain herself."

"...Women bearing children are not glass." Sara said, coming through one of the hidden passageways. "She is tougher than she looks, even more so than you give her credit for."

"...You should be preparing dearest." He said, vanishing the crystal.

"I'm already packed, we are not going to be their long...enough to show our son off and let Tobby meet his nephew…"

"How many bags this time…"

"Only two, one for me and one for the baby…"

Jareth laughed, all he would need was a change of clothes and some good boots.

_Nuada's chamber… ___

____

Pen gently stroked Nuada's hair, listening to him breathe in his sleep, She checked the bandages now and again for signs of seepage. He would shiver when she touched him, soft sounds escaping his lips, not of pain but of surrender. He lifted his head when she gently stroked his ear and made a soft gasping sound. She did it again as he moved slowly to pull her down to his level.

____

"That is one place I will always welcome your touch." He whispered softly. "An elf's ears are very sensitive…"

____

She smiled, Stroking his ear again. He pulled her close, gritting his teeth as he rolled onto his back and placing her astride. The blanket still between them. She leaned forward a bit to lay upon his chest. His hands molded to her back and hips. She looked up into his face, remembering that day so long ago.

____

"Touch me..." He whispered. "Touch me like you did after we first coupled."

____

She reached up to admire the masculine beauty of a male elf, tracing her thumbs over his cheekbones.

____

"You shied from my touch like a real stag until you knew what I wanted." She touched his temples where the antlers had rested heavily upon his brow. "...Your horns are gone now, lost to another."

____

He wanted to bow his head to her like a great stag as he shivered at the all too familiar touch, he had understood then the burden his father had carried. It was a lesson he'd forgotten in his war, now that he could not carry that weight it rested all the heavier upon him.

____

"I shouldn't be on you like this, it could reopen your wounds..." She said and began to move off him.

____

He caught her. "No, I do not care."

____

"Nuada..." She said softly. "I am not going to let you be foolish about your health, not after you put yourself in harm's way…"

____

He placed a finger to her lips. "...You are carrying my child. I could not let them hurt you." He pulled her down to lay on his chest again, stroking her hair. "...I will not let anyone harm you."

____

She turned her head and placed a soft kiss over the scar upon his heart. He made a very male sound of contentment. She could only think he was purring again.

____

____

_A short time later…_

____

Pen stirred, she'd fallen asleep in Nuada's embrace again. He made a pained sound when she moved to lay beside him. She slid her hand beneath him to touch the bandages, her fingers came away stained caramel.

____

"Nuada..." She said. "Turn over."

____

He did not move, not wanting to pull away from her touch.

____

"...Your bleeding."

____

His eyes shot open, smelling blood upon her fingers.

____

"I…"

____

She was quick, turning him over, pulling the stained bandages away to see the two ragged holes oozing a steady stream of blood. She used the "cleaner" part of the bandage to stem some of the bleedings. He was making pained noises under her as she held to the wound.

____

"The healers left bandages, I'll redress the wounds after the bleeding stops."

____

He made a noise of agreement as she pressed harder. She could feel the bleeding slowly, then stop. She left the stained bandages covering the wounds and went for the ones the healers had left behind.

____

Nuada winced when he felt a wet cloth smelling of some tincture the healers used to treat wounds was placed over his own. The soft linen strips that held it in place were tied tightly around his body, he let out a grunt of pain when she checked the tightness of the wrappings.

____

"That hurts human..." He hissed.

____

"It's supposed to Lord Silverlance..." She said, kissing the back of his neck. "a reminder that such bravery has a price." She shifted to lay beside him, stroking his hair back from his face. "You need rest, a lot of healing has to be done."

____

His hand touched her face, a soft smile graced his. His hand moved to rest on her belly, the tiny life flashed across his senses. It was still an amazement to him that he had a hand in its creation, it was a part of him.

____

"...You need rest too." He murmured, drifting into sleep. "our child must be strong…"

____

She placed a hand over his, "Sleep now, I won't leave you…"

____

His eyes closed, his hand not leaving its resting place. She smiled softly as she watched him sleep, feeling as if this was the calm before the storm.

____


	20. Rumbles of thunder

_Above ground, the Williams' residence…_

Jareth was not a happy camper, not that he didn't like Sara's father and step-mother but her extended family also had come for some obscene holiday. He would have enjoyed the wine and revelry of Mabon rather than this "thanksgiving" thing these mortals were so obsessed about. He thought they were living out of step with the seasons. True harvest had come and gone, months ago. He quietly ate his meal, fielding questions now and again.

He watched Sara and the other women doting on the baby, each passing him around like he was some exotic gift to share. It irritated him, but Sara would always claim him back for some trivial thing when she noticed his irritation. She didn't want her family to know just how different Jareth was from a mortal man. She returned to him assuring him it was only a few hours, they would have dessert and be off. He pretended interest in the Football game, but his eyes were always on Sara.

_In the Underground…_

Pen spent a good portion of her time with Nuada, mostly tending to his wounds. With time, She got him on his feet again. They took to walking in the gardens and finding a bench to spend a few hours out of the gaze of annoying Goblins and gossiping servants.

"...Jareth and Sara should be returning soon." Pen said, stroking Nuada's hair. "From what I heard his majesty dos not like to spend too much time above ground."

He was on his back with his head in her lap, blurred vision focused upon the sky. Moments like these were going to be rare once Jareth returned.

"So they will be." He said, smiling up at her. "...and we'll have him spying upon us again."

"I do not mind it, and he is too much of a gentleman to watch us be intimate." She said. "He means well, we are his guests who happen to have been assaulted more than once."

Nuada sighed, he decided to bring up a subject she'd been reluctant to speak of since the night of the Banquet. He knew Jareth was keeping things from them, especially about Tam Lin.

"...What did Jareth ask of you the night of the banquet, after I was stabbed."

She closed her eyes, she promised herself she'd tell him but had been avoiding it since that night.

"...Tam Lin was ill with Iron Sickness, Jareth requested I look after him for a few hours while you slept." She said. "It was until I saw him that I realized...Jareth had been forbidden to tell me."

He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"...He has been here all this time, our son."

"Yes." she said simply. "he has been here since you arrived."

She watched the conflicting emotions upon his face, processing this bit of information. She felt echos of them as he closed his eyes.

"He has been fearful to speak to us." She said. "For what I can only hope is ignorance."

Nuada reached out for her hand, caressing the back, "He is our son, he should not fear us."

"I know he should not," she said softly. "Whatever had transpired in his sickness, he tried to push me away." She looked down into Nuada's face. "When before he was following me around like a lost pup."

"What does he look like..." Nuada asked. "I only remember pale skin and a healthy set of lungs."

She laughed softly. "His hair is dark, like mine. He shares my Green eyes, but there is no doubt he is half Bathmoran Elf." She reached down to stroke his ear, gently brushing over the tip. "His ears point, but softer, slightly rounded."

He shivered, even a gentle touch upon his ears could arouse him.

"...His face is all yours, fine-boned but strong." She said softly. "He turns heads, I know this enough when I first preformed for the Goblin court. Many were asking for his attentions."

He smiled, "...Much like myself when I was in my youth."

"...Then you met me." She said playfully.

He gave her a rueful smile. "...I did not know you'd turn my world upside down."

She laughed softly. "as you turned mine."

He closed his eyes, the brightness of the sky began to bother him. She gently ran her thumb over his eyelid, knowing she couldn't do any more for him to restore his sight.

"...Do you want me to cover your eyes again?" She asked softly.

He made a soft sound, shifting a bit. Despite several weeks of healing the wounds on his back would bother him if he lay upon it for too long.

"We should go in, I am beginning to feel unwell." He said. "It is too bright."

She knew there was more to it just being too bright. Since the banquet, he'd been apprehensive about being in one spot with her.

"We'll go in, I'll dim the room for you."

She led him back inside, his hand firmly on her shoulder.

_Above Ground…_

Jareth looked down into his pie, the delicate taste of spice and pumpkin enhanced by the rich whipped cream that topped it. It was his third piece, it was one of the few mortal foods he enjoyed. Once he'd seriously considered asking the cooks in the castle to make it, but knowing the goblins he'd probably get something orange scooped out of the bog thrown into a raw pie shell.

Sara had watched him near inhale the first two pieces and now looked bemused as he went through his third piece. She always told her family to make a few extra pies so everyone could get a slice. She knew he'd be bellyaching later, Fey digestion and rich human foods didn't often mix well. Especially since the pie, he was devouring was homemade with fresh pumpkin. Most of Sara's relatives knew not to stand between Jareth and the pumpkin pie.

Sara took it in stride since their visit was almost up. She loved her family, but nothing could compare to watching the sunrise over the labyrinth or the full moon reflecting off the fountain in their private garden. He must have caught on to her wish, because he again inhaled his pie and like a gentleman took his own dish to the kitchen.

Sara began to say her goodbyes, embracing her father and Irene, saving a special hug for Toby. She was surprised when she saw him tucking Lancelot into the small portable bassinet beside her son.

"...He's yours now." Toby said softly as Sara came to retrieve her son.

"That's sweet," She said.

"I don't need him anymore," Toby said.

Sometimes he still amazed her, even at twelve.

"Will you and Jareth be coming for Christmas?"

"I don't know, The Yule ball is a serious thing. We may be too busy planning." She said.

Toby pouted, he wanted to see her more often.

"I know you want to see me more Tobes, and I'll try to talk Jareth to let me come more often over the holidays."

That brightened his face a little, "Will you send presents…"

She smiled, picking up the bassinet, "Of course, I'll see if I can't get you a hunter's coat. They're warm and good for being outdoors."

She hugged Toby One-armed, went to gather her things and husband.

_Underground…_

Pen led Nuada back to his chambers, carefully avoiding the main passageways. He had only asked her to pause once, that was so he could treat her to a most delightful kiss. She pushed open the door, surprised when she saw Tam Lin sitting beside the fire wrapped in a blanket.

"...Forgive my intrusion, you were not here when I came a while ago." Tam Lin said, his voice harsh from disuse. "I wanted to talk."

She turned to Nuada, he grimly nodded. It was an opportunity to find out just what was being hidden from them. She led the elder man to another chair and took up the stool between them.

"Mother...Father." Tam Lin began.

Both focused their attention on him, which Pen could see made him hesitate more.

"...The High King...he...paid me...to..." Tam Lin rose slowly, shaking his head. "Forgive me, I cannot…"

The young man took one look at Nuada and turned to go, leaving the room as if the weight of the whole world was upon his shoulders.

It was a few moments later that Nuada realized that something had not been right with the young man. He turned to Pen, who was still slightly stunned.

"...He's frightened." Was all he said. "Of me."

She moved to sit in his lap, leaning against his shoulder. He let out a soft sigh.

"He should not fear to tell me." He said softly.

"All children fear to tell their parents when they have done wrong." She said. "He wants our forgiveness, for what I cannot fathom."

He put his arms around her, letting her quietly rest in his lap. It was only here that he felt truly comfortable, even more so after the night of the banquet.

"...What could there be to forgive, It is I who should be begging his and yours."

She reached up and brushed her fingers across his lips.

"You are here now, and will be for our child...to amend your mistake." She said, shifting to straddle him. "do not punish yourself for those things you cannot change."

He pulled her closer, shifting a bit himself to make her more comfortable. She leaned in again to nuzzle into his neck. He stroked her hair, thinking of the mistakes he had made in his long life.

The first one had been asking his father to authorize the creation of the Golden army. He had been so cocksure then, a young prince who knew nothing of the cost of war even upon his own people. He had only thought to stop the humans, even after ages of exile that had been his goal. The second was not taking the chance at redemption fate had offered him in the form of a human girl in the guise of the maiden. For a year he had embraced the vision of what could be if the humans remembered that they and the Sidhe were once one, but then he had walked away from her and their child and back to his war.

That girl was now a woman, quietly dozing upon his lap and again a child of their making was curled in her womb. His darkest heart had whispered to kill the child, to prevent another "taint" upon Bathmora, He had shoved it away, choosing another path. It seemed Redemption was being offered again, a chance to heal from all his wounds.

"...Brooding." Came her murmured voice at his shoulder. "Isn't something you should be doing right now."

He let out a soft chuckle, she could read him all too well. He closed his eyes and stroked her hair.

"...What should I be doing at this moment?" He asked.

The soft kiss upon his lips surprised him, but soon he wasn't thinking about brooding at all.

Pen broke the kiss, moving to lay her head on his shoulder again. He licked his lips and leaned back into the chair. It seemed for these moments nothing else mattered, not even the threat of more assassins. She placed her hand over his heart and leaned up to whisper into his ear.

"Just be with me tonight, like this...together."

He gave a soft nod, he did not wish to move despite the renewed pain in his back. He moved and placed his hand over hers, in many ways this was more intimate than their couplings had been. It set him off balance, made him feel emotions he thought long buried. He pulled her closer, to relish the sensation of just simply being.

_Near moonrise, the Royal Chambers…_

Jareth sighed, then winced. He knew better than to eat so much human food, but the pumpkin pie was always worth it. He produced a crystal he wanted to look in on his guests. He was slightly amused to see them curled in a chair by the fire, neither of them awake. That was to be expected, it was late and they had no doubt been wandering the castle and grounds in his absence.

"...Spying on them again?" Sara said as she came to sit beside him.

"Would I do anything else?" He said. "They are growing closer, there is already a weak bond between them."

"Leave them be for tonight," Sara said. "Let them enjoy their privacy."

He made a soft noise and vanished the crystal. She set a goblet on the table in front of him.

"...Something to settle my stomach I gather." He said, eyeing the goblet.

"Yes, or else I won't get any sleep." She said. "We'll find out what has transpired from Hoggel in the morning, it is late."

He made another noise, this one would have done his goblins proud. His cheeks flushed, Royalty did not make such sounds. Sara slowly inched away, as a stench that could rival the bog seemed to emanate from her husband. She made a mental note not to let him have so much human food when they went to the next family gathering. He got up and with as much dignity as he could gather, headed for the water closet.

Sara stood stunned for about two minutes before her stomach muscles began to spasm in laughter. They had been through this before, but it had never been this bad. She remembered when it happened the first time, shortly after their wedding. She had not known rich human foods gave the Fey gas, and the result was somewhat humorous. She tried to school her expression when he came back a short time later and downed the goblet. He said nothing as he went to prepare for bed, murmuring about cruel women. She soon followed suit hoping the bromide she'd had the healers make would take care of the problem at least for the night.


	21. Terrible sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pen Sing's Pippen's song "edge of night"

_Early morning, Jareth's training hall…_

Tam Lin worked his body, though still weak he could make it through half of the form without pausing. His father's lance sang in his hands, extending with his concentration. He did not see Jareth come in as he executed a near-perfect drop roll.

"...An amazing display for one who was recently so Ill." Jareth said.

Tam Lin paused in mid-action, his muscles tensing before he stood up and retracted the lance. He would have ignored the Goblin king if not for the sudden weakness in his arms.

"I did not wish to brood in my chambers." He said. "I tried to talk to my parents...I couldn't."

Jareth shook his head. "...That may have been an unwise move."

"...Wisdom has nothing to do with what I did." He said. "Finnas changed me...took away what I was in exchange for Patricide. Would that I could be a child again in both body and mind."

Jareth frowned, he knew Tam Lin's true age. By all rights, the young man should have been among his peers playing knights and bandits with sticks rather than having a man's mind and body.

"...It could be undone, returned to who you were, be their child again."

Tam Lin closed his eyes, "No, I am more useful in this body than I would be clinging to my mother's skirts."

"As you so desire," Jareth said. "I will leave how you tell them up to you...including what you have done."

Tam Lin closed his eyes, turning from the Goblin king to tend to the lance in his hands.

"...Your father's weapon?"

"Yes, it was recovered from the chamber. I claimed it when the Court would have had it destroyed as a trader's weapon."

Jareth watched Tam Lin study the lance and its intricate design.

"...The Goblin Smiths were some of the best, no human could be their rival though they learned much from them." Tam Lin said. "The finest materials went into the items they forged."

Jareth sighed, "That ended with the army and the cursed city."

Tam Lin nodded, "The crown was one of the few artifacts that remained preserved among the humans...they knew not what they had."

"It is good it is gone now, it caused my people so much pain," Jareth said. "The humans would not have been the only ones to pay a high price if the army had marched."

Tam Lin nodded as he moved to pick up his shirt, he had to make a decision.

"...There will be other assassins, and unlike me, they won't be reluctant." Tam Lin said, turning to leave. "Nor will they be so easily swayed."

Jareth knew that but wished to hear it from the young man's lips. He acknowledged this as Tam Lin left.

_Nuada's chambers…_

Pen stirred first, giving a yawn as she tried to move without waking Nuada. The Fey lord pulled her closer and murmured something about not wanting her to leave him in Gaelic. She sighed and laid her head back down.

"...Its morning." She whispered softly. "We've been in the chair all night."

He stirred but did not let her go, shifting to ease his own cramped muscles. She reached up and tickled the tip of his ear. He stirred again, this time his murmur was something about not playing with fire. She laughed softly.

"Wake up my sleepy lord." She said softly. "Breakfast will be here soon."

He made a disappointed sound before letting out a sigh.

"...I was hoping for a proper good morning..." He said, his eyes still closed.

She laughed softly, "I would give you such but We have been in this chair all night."

He released her and she moved off him only to fall to the floor with a thump. Her legs were still asleep. He opened his eyes and let out a soft chuckle, even through blurred eyes he could make out her scowl.

"It is not funny, the stone is cold and hard…"

He smirked at her. "I know something that could be just as hard, but warm and much more pleasurable."

She levered herself up, standing until the pins and needles feeling went away.

"Perhaps we could discuss it, over a hot bath."

He shifted, stretching his muscles from their cramped positions. He eased himself up and stood for a moment, no doubt for the same reasons she now stood still.

"A bath sounds wonderful." He said. "...Just the thing to relax…"

A knock on the door, and it opened without their reply. A Servant with a tray came in and set it on the table. Pen eyed him wearily, most of the servants usually waited for them to answer.

What followed was a blur of movement and she found herself shielded by Nuada's body. A feral snarl emanating from his throat. The "Servant" had a wicked knife, something to rival the swords that lay inches away against the hearth. If she could just reach it.

"...This couldn't be more perfect, the trader and his whore…"

She moved slow, edging her fingers toward the smooth grip of her nested blades. With a Dive and a roll she came up both blades in her hands and unsheathed.

"So the bitch has fangs where the trader has none."

Her scream would have done any warrior proud as she moved, her swords pointed toward her enemy.

What happened next she would never be able to say, Nuada was in front of her a look of horror upon his face. One of her blades buried halfway into his chest. The second blade slid from her hand to clatter upon the stone. The "servant" laughed, finding his work done for him. Nuada stumbled back, grunting in pain as he pulled the blade out and took a swing at the laughing creature. The laugh was cut short with a gurgle.

"...Call the healers..." Nuada said, taking a few steps toward her. "Quickly…"

She caught him, sinking to her knees under his weight.

"Call for them..." He said.

Her scream brought not only Jareth but Tam Lin.

Tam Lin pulled his mother away from his father's fallen form and into the hall. It was hard to steer her out but he managed it and got her sitting. All she could do was look at her hands, tears flowing down her face.

"...I killed him..." Was all she murmured. "My blade...my hand…"

He looked at her, before picking her up and herding her toward Jareth's study. It seemed the safest place and the one place that was shielded from prying eyes. He had a lot of questions, including why no one had stopped to check upon anything delivered to their room.

_Jareth's study…_

Tam Lin watched his mother weep, heart-wrenching sobs that cut to the soul. To make matters worse, no one had come to check upon them. He was not happy when Jareth came in a short time later.

"...It was an unfortunate accident." Jareth said. "He stepped between you and the assassin…"

Tam Lin knew those words would not ease his mother's pain. She was curled up on one of the couches still sobbing.

"That does not help matters, Goblin King." Tam Lin hissed.

"The healers are looking after him, when they are finished we will bring your mother back to him…"

Tam Lin looked over to where his mother was curled up. "...It may already be too late."

Jareth said nothing, there was nothing to say only that they had to wait.

_Several hours later…_

Jareth watched the singer move like an old woman, slow as if she might break. There was little to be done save hope. The healers had done all they could, and that was damned little considering how deep the blade had gone. Tam Lin was close behind, his questions still unanswered.

"...Would she sing?" Tam Lin asked quietly. "They can sing life into anything."

"I do not think so," Jareth said. "She already carries his child, and I do not think he would ask her to make such a choice."

Both were surprised when they heard the faint strains of song. A choice had been made, but would it be for the best.

_"Home is behind/the world ahead/ there are many paths to tread/through shadow/though the edge of night/until the stars are all alight/mist and shadow/ cloud and shade/All shall fade/all shall...fade."_

Jareth had heard that song only once before, a distant kinsman relating a song sung in the first ages of man by a halfling. He watched her rise in the same deliberate manner, moments before feeling the room. Tam Lin moved to follow, Jareth stopped him.

"...Don't." He said. "she already made her choice, get the healers."

Tam Lin nodded and hurried to find the healers before his mother's careful work was undone.

It was what seemed like ages later that Nuada took a painful breath. He vaguely remembered the faint strains of song. He heard the healer's hushed voices, and one word he had not wished to hear. He tried to open his eyes but found even that took an effort he didn't have.

"...She miscarried, the midwife said it was from stain." he heard in a hushed tone not meant for his ears.

It struck him like a hammer blow, his breathing hitched. That sound indicated he was aware of them.

"lay still, Lord Silverlance." One of the healers said. "...The Singer saved you..but…"

He blinked his eyes, he was sightless again. "But what…"

"We did not know she was pregnant...she...she lost the child…"

"Is she…"

"As well as can be expected...the midwife said it was strain…"

He knew differently, she'd sung his life and paid for it with their child. It was a sacrifice he knew she should not have been asked to make.

"Bring her to me...please do not question this...let us mourn together." He said weakly.

The healer quickly left, speaking to someone outside the room.

It was a short time later that he felt her slide in beside him and lay her head upon his chest. He placed his hand upon her head, stroking her hair. Tears prickled at the edges of his eyes, then began to roll down his cheeks. He made no sound, only her sobs seemed to cut the air. He dared not move his hand from her head, he did not wish to feel the emptiness where there was once a small spark. He could feel her tears, hot against his skin. He wished he could offer her more comfort than himself.

It was not until much later he realized when she hadn't moved that she'd cried herself to sleep. He blinked his eyes, still darkness. He reached for her hand, resting on his stomach and placed it over the bandages on his chest then covered it with his own. He felt the echo of her pain, her choice for him.

"...you should have let me go..." He whispered, knowing she could not hear him.

She shifted in her sleep, clinging closer. He closed his eyes, he too needed sleep to heal.

_Jareth's study…_

Jareth watched through a crystal, frowning. Another assassin had slid into his castle, this one near succeeding. He turned his attention to Tam Lin who was absently reading the titles upon his bookshelves.

"...The midwife said she was lucky that it was only two months along." Tam Lin said. "I do not call that lucky, only heartbreak."

The Goblin King shook his head, he knew the singer's choice was the only one that could have been made.

"...It was a sacrifice, something humans forget must be made." He said. "If it had not been for him it would have been for another. It is why the guilds are so strict in their contracts." He took one last look and vanished the crystal. "They will need each other all the more now, their bond will grow tighter."

Tam Lin paused, then turned to look hard at Jareth before sitting himself down upon one of the leather-backed chairs.

"Will they try again?" Tam Lin asked.

"that is entirely possible, but we must make sure there are no more attempts."

"The High King will not stop, he still sees my sire as a threat…"

Jareth laughed, the young man had a keen way of changing the subject.

"Do you truly think that, or is it you he thinks the treat."

Tam Lin frowned, by all rights he should be sitting on the High Throne.

"Finnas stole the throne, you know that and so does the council," Jareth said. "They fear the usability of having a young king upon the throne, or else you would have had your father confined to a remote estate."

"No, he would have been returned to my mother."

Jareth nodded, "Now then, what shall we do about the threats…"

Tam Lin growled, sounding much like his Sire.

"And they say the fruit never falls far from the tree." Jareth murmured under his breath.

"One would be several rotations of guards and all items to be given to them inspected…"

"I suppose we must have all the servants checked…"

"That would be wise, and your other guests…"

Jareth sighed, he knew this would come eventually.

"I will have the guards placed upon their rooms immediately," Jareth said. "Now for another item, Finnas' spells…"

Tam Lin rose, he wasn't going to subject himself to this.

"Tam Lin, think of what you could gain…"

The young man shook his head. "The only thing I would gain is being another liability to my parents while the High King sees my Sire as a threat."

"As you wish, but the offer still stands."

Tam Lin nodded when the crisis passed he would consider it.


	22. Somewhere in between

_Three days later, The inner gardens of the Castle…_

Pen sat upon a bench, her eyes closed. She had shed many tears over the last three days and she knew there was more to shed. Nuada had closed himself off to her, privately mourning the small life they had created and the sacrifice made. He would ofter her comfort, but his emotions were like being immersed in a void. Her own emotions were scraped raw, to add to what had led her to her action.

It had seemed the right action, and even more so for the cause of the wound. Tam Lin and a slew of guards had taken up residence in their rooms and she'd had to leave. Going through the forms would have calmed her, but she could not bring herself to pick up her blades. The swords were not the only forms she knew but their movement was the most soothing, a link to the single year when she had known a most remarkable male.

"...I would think you would be at your lord's side."

She opened her eyes and focused upon Jareth, though how casually he was dressed surprised her. He looked like he'd been elbow-deep in earth.

"...There were too many in Nuada's chambers, I needed some air."

"I'm sorry, but the threats have become direr, and I wish Nuada to have a long life."

She smiled. "You knew Balor didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. I served in his armies, he was at my coronation."

"It is a long time to rule."

Jareth nodded, "Yes, it is. Only the blink of an eye to most Fey."

"You are of an age with him then?"

"No, I am a few centuries older."

She did not ask, as she could guess it was far older than an age of man.

"You enjoy earth about your fingers I see." She said, noting the smudge upon his face.

"My personal garden, for which no one but Sara and I may enter."

She laughed softly. "If the court could see you now, I think they would drop dead from shock."

Jareth laughed. "...Despite what the council would think, I am not so flamboyant as I appear."

"I've known that for a while your Majesty," she said. "I worry, he closed himself off to me…"

"It is a hard thing to lose a child, especially when it is longed for," Jareth said. "I had lovers before Sara, some bore me children...One died in childbirth and the child soon after."

She had not expected this confession from the Goblin King.

"So you know this pain…"

"Some aspect of it." He sighed. "I know he will turn from you for a time...drown in his own sorrows."

"You haven't always been a sober man have you, Goblin King?"

Jareth shook his head. "It took me an age to find my way back, I almost slipped away again after Sara defeated my Labyrinth. I do not wish to see another fall so far."

She sighed. "I see you still struggle...knowing what lies down that path."

Jareth nodded, it is why he had been in his garden this day. Better to take his frustrations out upon soil and weed than flesh and bone.

"I also know there that darkness leads," Jareth said. "He would have fallen far if I had not summoned you."

She rose to ease the cramp of her muscles. "He should have let me defend him...not run himself upon my blade…"

Jareth could see how frustrated she was, unable to touch her blades for fear of harming anyone.

"He is a warrior, even blind his first instinct is to defend," Jareth said. "You and the child were the most precious things in the room to him, so it was doubly so."

She closed her eyes and sat down again.

"...The healers say he is totally blind again." She said, opening her eyes and looking down at her hands. "he was seeing shadows and shapes…"

Jareth shook his head. "...Do not dwell upon that, it will only pull you farther down into a mire of guilt."

She looked up at Jareth. "I think I'm already hip-deep in it…"

"Well, I for one won't let you sink any deeper. You are his strength, his anchor in the storm that his emotions bring."

"I'm also a weakness…"

Neither saw the healer until he was quite close to them.

"Singer, Your majesty...Lord Silverlance...he's slid into a coma." The healer said. "The Dain Cecht sent me to find you…"

Pen frowned as she rose, before heading back to the castle in a run.

_A short time Later...Nuada's chambers._

Pen sat at Nuada's bedside, the back of one limp hand to her lips. He had not stirred save at her first touch and that was to let out a soft whimper. His skin was like over dry white clay, seemingly brittle with a tinge of blue about his lips and the tips of his ears. This was not a good sign. She had gotten the healers to dribble the mixture of purging herbs into him. She had been told he'd vomited for a good hour after that before sliding into this state.

Tam Lin watched from a stool near the hearth, frowning. He had organized the guard to set up a decent rotation of shifts. The two who guarded the door now were a pair of jerks he'd mentally named Frick and Frack, they seemed to think themselves too great to be guarding one of the Goblin King's "guests" for any length of time. He'd remained encase one of them got any ideas about bolting. There were worse places than the Goblin kingdom to serve out a sentence. The king's salt mines for instance. Jareth had offered to break the High King's magick, to return him to the state of a child. It was a tempting offer, one his mind was playing over.

Pen rose to stretch out her muscles from sitting. She laid Nuada's hand gently upon the blanket as she turned to request something from the healers. She turned to look at Tam Lin, stunned still at how much of his father was in him. He had her hair and eyes, true but everything from his intense gaze to the way he carried himself was Nuada. She gave a small smile, wondering if he had her talent for song.

"...Is something wrong mother?" Tam Lin asked, a bit nerved at her intense stare.

"No, just amazed how much you and your sire are alike." She said making her way to the hearth. "There is much of him in you...change your hair color and no one would be the wiser unless they looked into your eyes and saw the green."

Tam Lin Frowned, "Am I that much my father's son…"

She shook her head. "No man cannot say you are not of Balor's line…"

"Why didn't you come to find me..." He asked.

She stopped in front of him, it was a valid question.

"I was told you were stolen from your cradle...I did not know you had been returned." She said, reaching out to touch his head. "I have always thought of you upon the day of your birth and even more so all the days of the year."

He looked up at his mother, better to tell her than the man whom he had attempted to murder.

"The High King paid me for a murder...one I could not complete."

She paused. "...you took your own poison."

He bowed his head, "Yes, intending to die…"

She reached down and lifted up his chin, looking into the depths of his soul.

"There is a reason you live..." She said softly.

He nodded, then turned his gaze from her.

"My son, what did he do to you…"

He rose. "I cannot, I'm sorry mother…"

She nodded, moving so he could go past her.

_Some hours later…_

Pen had returned to her vigil after Tam Lin had left. Nuada was still unresponsive, his chest rising and falling as if in sleep. She knew and had seen Elves will themselves into death. She'd stopped him more than once, she didn't know if she had the strength to stop him again if he chose that path. She would feel his pulse at his wrist every now and again, to assure herself he still lived.

"...Do not leave me..." His words echoed in her mind.

"I won't..." She whispered. "I won't leave you to drown in the darkness or pain…"

How she wished for more than echoes of his emotions, for now, she felt nothing.

"...There has been no change, you should get some rest." One of the healers said. "You've been through emotional trauma, it is not a good idea to add to it."

She rose slowly, placing Nuada's hand upon the blanket and allowed herself to be guided to a pallet beside the fire.

_Somewhere between the realms of Dream and Death…_

Nuada felt himself floating, it was a calm serene feeling. He barely felt the Singer's hand leave his, urged to rest by the healers. He did not notice when another figure appeared, a lady dressed in a gown that would have rivaled anything at court and someone much like himself.

"Nuala..." He whispered.

"Shush..." The dark-clad lady said. "She has gone beyond the veil...where you cannot yet follow."

He wanted to open his eyes, but a gentle hand upon them stopped him. The touch was feather-light, like gossamer wings.

"...There is someone who wants to meet you," she said.

"Athair…"

his breath hitched.

"...Who are you to call me father…"

"...I am, or I will be your child."The voice was hesitant and gender-less. "...Mathair made the right choice...in that body, I would not have lived...my heart wouldn't have been strong…"

He wanted to open his eyes so badly, to look at the being who wished to come into his bloodstained life.

"I'm sorry Athair, You cannot see me yet...but I will come…"

"It is time to go..." The woman's voice was clear.

"Good-Bye Athair…"

The floating sensation returned, a hand held his and words spoken with such affection. He heard her voice, calling across the distance; a plea for his return. He felt so tired, the iron sapping his strength. He made an effort to squeeze her hand, but it hurt.

Pen smiled when she felt a weak squeeze upon her hand. It had been two days since he'd slipped into a coma, it was a good sign. She knew he was weak from sickness and his wound, having risen at the first sound he'd made.

"...I am here, I will not leave you..." she whispered softly.

He let out a soft breath and turned his head. Her fingers stroked the back of his hand in slow movements.

"Human…"

she smiled softly, hearing the affection in his voice.

"I am here, Lord Silverlance…"

His hand tightened weakly upon her own.

"...Rest beloved..." she whispered softly. "I'll be here when you wake…"

He drifted back into the void again, holding on to her hand.


	23. A gathering of songbirds

_Somewhere in the halls of the Singer's Guild…_

A man with white-blond hair looked over the most recent contracts, drawn up in the last two months. He paused over one, focusing his mismatched eyes upon the destination of the Singer.

"...being reminded of home." Asked another, older man who entered.

"As much as the goblin city was home, my brother has something up his sleeve if he asked for one of us."

"Not just anyone, our little pearl…"

The man seemed a bit stunned, "What could he want with her, she doesn't sing for court and any taking her by force is going to find out she is no weak-willed woman."

"It seems the council of Bathmora dropped fourteen stone of exiled Fey lord in his lap, he wanted a caretaker…"

"...it says here the Fey lord was blinded."

"Finnas' doing, it is getting hard for us to stay out of the affairs of the Court."

The white-haired man nodded. "It does not say the man's name…"

"I thought it was common knowledge, prince, now lord, Nuada Silverlance…"

the man's lips parted in a gasp. "...So fate gives him to her again…"

"Did you say something, Jaeren?"

Jaeren shook his head. "No, just thinking aloud."

"It would be a good idea to bury that contract for a while, the high king's steward has been sniffing around and asking questions."

Jaeren nodded, "and you have informed him that he must wait his turn."

"Of course, but he thinks privilege and power will buy him her contract." The older man sighed. "When will people learn we go where we are needed and do not bend for any price."

"When the stars fall to ash..." Jaeren replied. "I will get in touch with my brother, perhaps a visit to the Goblin City is in order."

The older man laughed. "...give our little pearl my regards."

Jaeren nodded, he had plans to make.

_The Castle Beyond the Goblin City…_

Jareth again came upon Tam Lin working through a form. This one was a little more involved than the last. It was as if the young man were trying to cut a path between worlds.

"...So you told your mother."

"Not all..." Tam Lin said swinging the lance up and behind him. "She knows Finnas paid me...and for a murder…"

Jareth nodded as a crystal as thin as a soap bubble came floating through the window. He paused when it landed gently upon his palm. A familiar face appeared in the crystal's depths.

"Hello, little Brother…"

Jareth made an irritated sound. "Hello, Jaeren…"

"I was wondering if you could arrange for me to come to perform…"

Jareth knew better, the only time he saw his twin was when he wanted aid only the Goblins could give.

"What do you really want…"

"Am I that transparent?" He asked.

"I know you brother, you want to spy upon the young Singer since she is your guild sister…"

"You wound me, but yes I wished to check up on her."

Tam Lin wondered why Jareth was squirming but kept it to himself.

"I will arrange a performance, choose your tunes carefully…"

"I will brother, don't worry...I will be there in two days…"

Jareth nodded, and without another word, the crystal "popped" and was gone.

"A relative of yours?" Tam Lin asked at Jareth's unhappy expression

"My twin brother..." Jareth said, spitting out the word "twin" as an annoyance.

Tam Lin snickered. "So there are two of you…"

Jareth made a noise like a kettle boiling over. Tam Lin backed off before he found himself in an oubliette.

"Your mother should be happy to have a fellow Guild member here, but I would refrain from speaking of your punishment…"

Tam Lin nodded, "Its not something I would discuss with someone."

Jareth pulled out his rapier, "Care for a little practice…"

Tam Lin smiled, swinging the lance up to his shoulders. "I'd be delighted…"

The two of them said nothing save to taunt each other for some time.

_Nuada's chambers…_

Nuada still slept like the dead, his body slowly healing. Pen managed to rouse him enough to take food and drink but he would slide back into sleep shortly after. She did not leave his side save for bodily needs and rest.

It was during one of her rest Periods that Jareth found her curled into Nuada's side softly dozing. Jareth was loathed to wake her, but he thought it best to inform her that one of her Guild brothers was going to arrive.

"...Which one?" She said, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Jaeren…"

She brightened, he was one of the few guild members who did not judge her on her origins. It would be good to perform with accompaniment. She let out a yawn as Jareth turned to leave.

"Get some real sleep, you will need it," Jareth said. "We will be inviting the greater nobles this time since it will be a duet…"

Pen snuggled back down with Nuada, placing a hand over his heart. At least, for now, all was quiet.

_Two days later…_

Jareth dusted garden dirt off his trousers, he'd spent most of the day in his garden pulling up what was the underground equivalent of creeping charily. Even though he liked the purple flowers the plant itself was a nuisance. Then there were the Rhododendrons, he could have cursed the ancestor that planted those.. As he dusted the dirt off his hands he thought about what he would have been if he hadn't been crowned king. Perhaps he would have spent his time carousing or in a sober mood in the gardens with Hoggle.

"...Or perhaps brother dearest, you would have joined one of the Orders as I did."

Jareth spun around the pruning hook in his hand.

"Jaeren..." He said. "I thought I was going to meet you in the reception hall."

"I used to live here brother, remember...I know my way into the gardens well enough." Jaeren said. "How is Pen?"

Jareth set down the pruning hook and sighed.

"Near bonded to her charge, or has that been what the guild has wanted all along?"

Jaeren frowned, "No, we did not expect a bond out of the contract."

Jareth shook his head. "Forgive me, I've had to deal with many assassination attempts upon them in the last two months."

"You are forgiven," Jaeren said. "So what have you done with the Fourteen stone of trouble the council dropped into your lap?"

"Given him over to Pen to take care of," Jareth said. "As I said they are near bonded...even to the point of heartbreak."

Jaeren shook his head. "...Fool girl, she sang the "road back" didn't she?"

Jareth nodded at the mention of the power to pull one back from the veil.

"The price was the life that had just begun within her. She has not left his side since, save to find a few moments away."

Jaeren nodded. "Let us go in, and prepare a good meal. I want to talk to her before you make the arrangements…"

Jareth nodded, leading his brother back into the castle.

_A trip to the baths and a stop at the kitchens later…_

Jaeren calmly knocked upon the chamber door, balancing a tray in one hand. He had supervised the preparation of this tray, including honeyed tea and lots of fresh fruit as well as some cheese and sausage rolls. Singers tended not to eat well when looking after their charges, it was usually up to those that had taken their contract to provide them with the requite foods.

He smiled at Pen when she opened the door, the look on her face told him a lot. He offered the tray and waited.

"May I come in, Sister…"

She nodded, stepping aside so he could enter.

"...You have done well." He said, bringing the tray to the small table by the hearth. "How is your charge…"

"Well as can be expected after being impaled upon Mithril iron…"

He shook his head, Jareth had told him of the accident.

"He lives, most would not have." He said. "I'll not cheapen the sacrifice you made with platitudes."

"Thank you..." She said. "I have done nothing save be at his side since."

He prepared a cup of tea for her, bringing it and placing it in her hands.

"...I came to tell you that the High King's steward wished to buy your next contract."

She clinched the cup in her hands, licking her lips.

"I assure you told him that I already have one."

"Yes, many times." He said. "The rumors are already flying at court, half believed that you are Jareth's mistress."

She laughed. "...I can assure you there is no truth to them."

"I know, you do not dally with those you serve." He said. "But there are those who would believe that we whore you out to nobles we wish to curry favor with."

She frowned. "...Then they would not believe that I have found my bond-mate…"

He looked at her and then at the pale form upon the bed.

"...You've chosen then."

"Fate chose." She said. "My Maiden year...he was my young god."

"I remember." He said. "What of the child conceived between?"

She took a sip of tea. "Tam Lin, after my favorite ballad. Nuada named him, after fleeing with him."

He could have almost laughed at the image of a hardened Elf Warrior trying to calm a screaming infant.

She closed her eyes. "He is here in the castle, as a foster-ling."

"So you've seen him."

"I have no doubt he is father's son..." She said.

He again looked at the pale figure upon the bed.

"...His feelings for humans." He said. "It is well known that the one called Silverlance despises humanity."

"He struggles, even with me." She said. "Even knowing I was raised among the elvish people." She sighed. "I am a wall between him and his self-destroying grief."

Jaeren nodded. "It is what we all do with those we care for."

"I know he will have to face that grief soon enough."

He nodded, "You must eat something, it would not be good if I must sing you back…"

She smiled, at least now she had someone who knew what burden she carried.


	24. More than known

_Jareth's study…_

Jareth groaned as he looked at the amount of correspondence he'd received in the last two days. He'd neglected it to take out his frustrations upon the garden. He looked at the snifter upon the table, and fervently wished for Goblin beer. He shook his head, he did not wish to go down that path. He'd drunk way too much of the foul brew after he'd lost...her, and the child he'd desperately wanted. He let out a breath, it was a memory he didn't deal with well.

He picked up the first page, it was the Royal steward demanding he release Pen from her contract. He looked at it and felt the urge to chuck it into the fire, he liked the steward less than his king. The former Royal steward had been put to death for allowing Nuada to pass through the gate, as had the surviving Raven guard. Finnas had chosen a Formeran to fill the Steward's role, a bad move all around. He set it aside, he'd show it to Jaeren and to Pen. Then he'd burn it saying he'd received nothing when the steward inquired again.

The second and third pages were inquiries as to when Pen would perform again. These he knew were from the more lecherous set. These he did toss into the fire and intended to respond with stern warnings that Pen was a bonded woman. Though he doubted they would listen, perhaps the silverlance shoved up their ass' would get their attention. He made a note to ask Tam Lin to do him a little favor in exchange for the spell removal. He sighed, no he couldn't use the boy like that, it had been exactly what Finnas had done.

"...Not a wise idea, little brother." Jaeren said as he appeared from behind a tapestry depicting the Labyrinth itself. "Those two would stoop to a lot to get their hands upon her."

He set down his quill and looked at his twin. Though there were things that were similar about them there was much that was different. They were supposed to be identical, or so they had been told. But anyone meeting them individually and then together would have a hard time believing so.

"I know, so would half the nobility," Jareth said. "How is she?"

"In love, and very worried," Jaeren said. "Though I fear that love might be one-sided."

Jareth raised an eyebrow, "You have not seen them together, nor hear the way they speak to each other."

Jaeren shook his head. "that may be the case, but I saw how fragile the bond they share is. There are pieces missing."

Jareth rose. "...He was bonded to his sister, stronger than the bond of twins…"

"An unnatural bond if there ever was one," Jaeren commented. "Bonds like that do not fade so easily…"

"I know," Jareth said. "Give them time, the pieces will fall into place."

Jaeren nodded, though only time would tell if the bond was ever complete.

_Nuada's chamber…_

Pen held out a spoon of rich broth made that morning to Nuada. He took it carefully, clinging with a will to consciousness so he could have a decent meal. She offered another, which he also took.

"Just one more..." She said. "And the bowl is done."

Nuada was grateful for that, as the pain was slowly slipping past his will.. He took the final spoon and turned his head.

"You did well, that's as much as you've taken in a week."

He reached out his hand, relieved when hers took it.

"...It did not stay down..." He murmured.

His lips and ears showed a bit more color, and the blue tone was vanishing.

"This will, " She said softly, leaning to kiss his forehead. "...now rest, I'm not going far."

His body relaxed, "Will you be singing again today."

"Yes, Jareth has been talking of another performance…"

He let a smile grace his lips as he drifted off to sleep. He loved it when she practiced in their rooms, it was as if she were singing just for him. She gently brushed a few strands from his face before she rose to begin her practice.

She sighed and began to practice. The scales came first, the ancient and then the "modern". Her warm-up song was "Rose Rose" followed by "the trees they grow high". She preferred traditional songs for her warm-up, then went into a version of Tam Lin known as "lady Margret". From Tam Lin she passed to Filk songs, a soft chuckling made her pause and give a death glare to Jaeren.

"...always one for the unusual." He said softly, his gray robes softly swishing upon the floor. "I hope you don't intend to sing any of those to the court."

"No, they are for my own enjoyment. I doubt any of them would get the humor of "Banned from Argo"."

"Only those who have gone on tavern crawl regularly, or have gone adventuring." He sighed. "I have the songs I wish you to accompany me on."

She inclined her head toward the table. "...Lord Silverlance is sleeping, it would be best if we discuss this at the table."

Jaeren nodded as they moved toward the table.

Pen sat looking across from Jaeren, now noticing how much he looked like Jareth. It was no wonder she felt comfortable talking to the Goblin King. The elder singer laid the sheet music in front of her.

"...Rose Rose is relatively easy unless you wish to have some of the other verses woven in."

"No, just the basic lyric. The one I wish you to put full voice to is the third from the top."

She shuffled down, a bit stunned. "The lament for Gandalf…"

"Yes, though no one has sung it fully in several ages."

"I will need time, it is all in Elvish."

"As expected, there is the Rivendel lullaby there as well," Jaeren said. "I thought to show off the talents of our guild."

Jaeren had chosen some of the most obscure songs in the Guild's library to show off the talents of two singers.

"I also included the one you like to hear the guild master's sing…"

She shuffled down. "The song of the Evenstar…"

"Yes, vocal range without the incumbent of lyrics."

"Thank you Jaeren, when are we going to perform…"

"In another month or so...Jareth wishes Lord Silverlance to attend."

she nodded. "He loves to hear me sing."

"Grow tighter to him and we will have to sew his crest to your garments and not the guild's."

She smiled. "He changed my life in that year, and no other could offer me more."

"Not even the noble who has been pressuring you since you were introduced by the Guild."

"He even less," She said softly. "I chose the Toll market because it allows me to live in both worlds."

"And you live in them well as you were taught," Jaeren said. "Know that if you chose to bond with Lord Silverlance you will have to give up the human world, for you know as well as I, they will not allow him to leave the underground."

"It has what I have been debating for ages, even before I was summoned here."

Jaeren nodded. "The call of true heart. You are not the first singer to feel it, nor will you be the last."

She closed her eyes. "My heart is where ever he is, as he lives I live."

Jaeren sighed. "Strengthen the bond between you, for it is as thin as spider silk and just as fragile."

She fingered the ring about her finger, almost forgotten in the last few days.

"I know, and all the more for the loss of our child." She said. "All I can do is remain at his side and hope."

Jaeren stood, it was well time for him to leave her to her practice.

"Yes, it is all you can do for the time being." He said. "I will leave you to continue your practice."

She nodded and rose to show him the door.

Once down the hall and well away from Pen's hearing, Jaeren leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands. Too much the fool he had been in his youth, founding a bloodline that had culminated in the birth of the first human singer in an age. Just moments ago he had looked that human in the eyes and saw love for a man who could spark revolution just by existing. He had joined the Guild to make amends for abandoning that family. He had risen through the ranks, taken delight when the small dark-haired girl had been brought before the guild council.

"Choose wisely little pearl," He whispered. "For I can do nothing if you fall…"

He continued on, he needed to talk to Jareth.

_Jareth's study…_

The Goblin king looked up as his brother wearily stumbled in, going over and pouring himself a large snifter of Peach brandy.

"Have you have a reason to be here other than to plunder my Brandy..." Jareth asked.

Jaeren took a few gulps before turning to his twin.

"...I want to know why you agreed to keep Silverlance here?"

"You know well why Balor asked. I wasn't about to deny the high king his wishes."

"You should never have introduced her to him."

Jareth frowned, his twin was going to be a problem where the singer was concerned. She may have been of their blood but many times removed.

"You are acting as if she is a princess and Silverlance a Gypsy thief who would steal her away."

"She might as well be, do you know how rare she is."

"As blue pearls, I've heard it all," Jareth said. "She is a grown woman by the standards of the humans, and nearly so by ours."

"That does not make it any easier," Jaeren said. "She is of my blood damn it, I do not wish ti to be tied to a trader."

Jareth pulled the snifter out of his brother's hand, tossing it to shatter upon the hearth.

"...That "trader" gave us hope." Jareth hissed. "A wake-up call to the humans that they are not alone in their world, or it is just themselves they destroy." He shoved his brother away from him. "There are rare humans in that world, the ones who remember that once upon a time isn't just a fairy tale."

Jaeren paled, he knew his brother was passionate about the debate going on wither to continue to honor the treaty or take back what had been stolen from them.

"...Very well, I will stay out of her decision." Jaeren said, not wishing to anger his brother further. "You are right, she is a grown woman."

Jareth snarled his brother out of his study, it was bad enough that he had to convince the council that Nuada Silverlance was no threat, he did not need his twin questioning his decisions as well.

_Nuada's chambers…_

Nuada was awake, looking down at Pen curled into his side. Her eyes were closed, her body breathing softly in sleep. This much he could tell by the sound she was making. He gently stroked over her hair, thinking of that year he'd spent at her side, and then the seven months awaiting Tam Lin's birth. They had been the most peaceable he'd known in centuries. He wanted that again, but would he be willing to pay the price.

He was a warrior, one who had fought for his people when they had called to him. He'd left the last war a headstrong and cocksure teenager, not realizing there had been a reason his father had stopped the war. The need to avenge had run hot in his veins, even goading his father to accept the goblin's offer. He had not understood what a burden such loss of life was, nor how heavy it had weighed upon his father's shoulders. Had his act been a blessing, finally removing the guilt from his father's hands. He remembered looking at his hand moments after he'd driven the blade into his father's heart.

"I have always loved you, father..." He'd said moments before tearing the crown piece from his father's ashen body.

His hand trembled mid-stroke, he understood now. He felt the weight upon his heart, the responsibility for so much death. He now understood what his father had tried to teach as he taught him of war, but it had come too late to prevent the deaths that had followed in the wake of his quest.

"A warrior fights in the hope that the next generation won't have too." The old grizzled guard captain had said to him while he learned to wield his lance. "hones his skill in hopes he will never have to use it. Hopes when he lays down his weapons in times of peace his skills will not be needed again."

Those words struck home now, as he lay in his little human's arms. It was strange, to be saved by the very thing he'd hated. He felt her hand shift, coming to rest upon his heart.

~Go to sleep my beloved...~ the voice in his head was hers. ~And quit brooding…~

He smiled softly at the sign that their bond was growing stronger.

~As you wish, little human…~

She snuggled closer as he allowed himself to be lulled into sleep.


	25. Growing grief

_Dawn, Two days later: Nuada's chamber…_

Pen shifted closer to Nuada, drawing her hand across his chest. She smiled in her sleep when she heard the sound of male contentment her touch brought. Nuada however, was wide awake and had been for some time. He took contentment in "watching" her sleep, letting his keen senses compensate for his lack of sight. He stroked over her hair, frowning at the oily feel. He knew she did not use human manufactured soaps on her skin or hair so it told him she needed a bath or someone had introduced her to the various bath oils. He brought a few strands to his nose, the scent of lavender greeted him. He had liked it when she'd smelled of forest and meadow, the heaviness of scent did not seem right upon her. He made a note to ask Jareth to have proper bath oils and soaps brought, ones that made her smell less like a queen and more like the wood Nymph he knew her to be.

She stirred at his thoughts, smiling wider against his skin. She placed her lips to skin and took a soft nip. He didn't jump under her little love bite but turned his awareness to her.

Good morning, little human. He said softly through their bond.

His good morning was rewarded with another soft nip.

So my little human wishes to give me a proper good morning…

Her soft chuckle against his skin told him she was in a playful mood.

Define Proper... She sent back, her nips wandering lower.

He let out a soft chuckle that quickly turned into a gasp when she nipped the skin upon his stomach.

Pen knew he was not quite up to making love, but other things were up and she intended to make sure it was definitely a "good" morning. His soft gasps told her that her teasing was having an effect.

"...Enough." He gasped. "Proper enough…"

She frowned a bit, she hadn't even gotten to the good part. She kissed her way back up, capturing his lips.

"...I wasn't done." She pouted.

I hear someone out in the hall... He said through the bond. They do not sound like anyone I have heard before.

She nodded, shifting to lay at his side. Her hand slid under the pillow, pulling out a stiletto.

The knock was tensive, as if frightened. The door opened slowly, a boy of no more than ten made his way toward the hearth and curled up in what was usually Nuada's chair. She put a finger to her lips.

I will go see what our young guest wants... She said through the bond. He looks exhausted.

Nuada nodded, Do not frighten him...

She slid from the bed, moving across the floor slowly. It took her a moment to get a look at the child.

Its Tam Lin... She sent. I do not know how, but it is him…

He looked up at her, wide green eyes glistened with tears.

"What do you want little one..." She said, reaching to bush his unruly dark hair from his face.

"I wanted to sleep with you and athair…"

She knew elf children were very much different than their counterparts, childhood was much longer.

"Come on then," She said. "We will make room."

The little boy got up sleepily and followed her.

Nuada was very surprised but moved so Tam Lin could sleep between them. The boy was quickly asleep curled between his parents. Pen gently touched Tam Lin's head.

He is as he should have been... She sent. He must have escaped his keepers…

All to find us, I find that highly suspicious…

She looked down at the small boy.

He was frightened as if he feared to seek us out.

Nuada's hand covered hers on Tam Lin's head, he wanted to believe fate had drawn them together to be a family...

"Let him sleep." She whispered.

Nuada nodded, listening to the boy sleep.

_A few hours later…_

Jareth was the first to disturb them, coming to retrieve Tam Lin. It was as they had thought, the boy had slipped out of the nursery and gone wandering. It had been a sheer chance he had found them.

"...He wanted the spells broken." Jareth said quietly. "He remembers little of what has gone before, he is wholly a ten-year-old boy."

Pen gave a soft smile, leaning down to gently to kiss Tam Lin's head.

"We'll come to the nursery in a day or two." She said quietly. "Tell him he may see us then, We...need to get used to him this way…"

Jareth nodded. "I will."

Nuada pulled Pen close to him as Jareth carried the boy out.

She turned in Nuada's arms and buried her head in his chest. Her son had been given back to her and yet had been taken away. His hand stroked her head.

"...Shush..." He said, feeling her shaking.

He pulled her back toward the bed, it was the only way he knew how to comfort her. The bed hit the backs of his knees, he sat pulling her into his lap.

"We have a son..." He said. "who is the near spitting image of me…"

She smiled up at him, reaching up to touch the scar across the bridge of his nose.

"We will have more sons." He pulled her closer. "Warriors to defend their people…"

"There will be daughters too, fine ladies to make the courts jealous."

through their bond, he got an image of a little girl, near the image of his sister. His heart clenched, his sister.

"I'm sorry, beloved..." She said. "I did not mean to…"

He shook his head, "do not be sorry, I must learn to deal with my grief."

She leaned up to kiss him, he always tasted of spice and Autumn to her. He smelled that way too, very much a creature of the forests.

"...Be of one heart with me." He said softly.

"I am thy heart..." She said softly. "As I live so shall you live…"

He moved to lay back, let the mattress cradle his body while she sat above.

Neither knew how long they stayed that way, only that time stood still. Pen lay on his chest, her fingers tracing over his collar bone. The mix of emotions, some sharp others like caresses of butterflies upon skin. She could see the strands, wrapping around one another. The broken pieces no longer shooting off sparks but seeking. With the previous experience, she was reluctant to connect.

Do not fear me...please, do not pull away…

The plea was heartfelt, honest. Through the link, she felt the fear and feelings of abandonment buried in it. His sister's choice had already caused one abandonment, she could not add to it. She felt a strong surge of need too, wanting and lust.

"Your wounds..." She whispered.

He let out a chuckle "cannot a man feel lust without consummating it…"

She sighed, that was true enough.

"Now my little human, will you lay upon me all day or shall we see a bit of the garden this morning. I grow weary of laying in bed."

She smiled, walking in the gardens sounded like a wonderful idea.

_Three days later…_

Jareth came to pay a visit to Pen and Nuada, bringing news of their son. They had gone to see him the day before, finding the nursery quite pleasant. Tam Lin simply adored his father, wanting to hear tales of his battle with humans and the red demon. Pen refrained from shattering the boy's illusions that war was a glorious thing.

"...He's settling in." Jareth said. "And has made the acquaintance of all the Goblin children."

Pen smiled, "...Friends are good."

Nuada knew her feelings about the stories he'd told. Though she found the one about three score humans being fended off with a cooking pot quite funny, the ones of his slaughtering a whole village simply because they were human had sent her from the room.

"He has not asked to learn a weapon yet, though I suspect with age he will wish training," Jareth said. "I also came to tell you of the Yule Ball, you and Jaeren are set to perform. I came to ask you what colors shall I have your gown and Jewelry made."

Pen smiled softly. "I have given no thought to it, I wore the Green and silver of the Goblin court for my first, and Nuada's colors for my second…"

"A subtle Gray and plum..." The seamstress said as she came in. "...No, that does not suit her...Blue…"

Nuada's breath hitched.

"...You always looked good in blue..." his words haunted him.

He'd said them to Nuala moments before the room had been filled with agents and a very drunk demon.

Pen could feel his body tense at the mention of blue.

It was Nuala's favorite color, wasn't it?

The silence from his end of the bond told her true enough.

If it reminds you too much, I shall not wear it…

No, wear what colors you like, The pain is mine to bear…

She reached up to touch his cheek, he turned his face into her palm. Jareth noticed the gesture, it spoke well for how he wished to portray Nuada to the Court.

"...Will you be attending Lord Silverlance" Jareth asked.

Nuada turned toward him. "...I go where my heart goes, of course, I will be attending."

Pen took note the tone was much too cheerful for the emotions she was feeling.

"Perhaps we could discuss this later..." She said.

Jareth nodded and corralled the seamstress out the door.

Pen turned her attention to Nuada, who was making his way over to the chair by the fire. She could feel the sadness eating away at his resolve. She made her way over to him, and placing her hand upon his shoulder. He turned his face from her, sadness flowed through the link.

"It is not your burden to bear, nor should you apologize for being what you are." He said. "Blue was indeed Nuala's favorite color, she wore it to please me."

"You loved her, and were close to her."

He turned his face to her, offering her a wan smile.

"She and I should have been one being, twins are rare among Elvish kind and usually born the same gender."

"Were the rumor's true then…"

He looked at her, his mouth was agape. Through their link, he felt the rest of that question. He would answer her honestly.

"Yes and no." He turned his head away again. "She would not allow it, my father would not allow it. Though I courted her as any man."

She knew it was not uncommon among Fey royalty to wed a cousin or even a sibling to insure the throne. Much like many Royal lines of the human monarchies in the past.

"Had fate been kinder..." he said softly.

She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"Fate brought you to me." She whispered. "and fate brought her to the man she was destined for...however briefly."

He turned from her again, she could feel it.

"Their child would have been the first water elf born in centuries..." He said. "In my hate...what have I taken from the world…"

She could feel him sliding away, she clung with a will.

Please beloved, do not do this to yourself…

He rose slowly. "I wish to be alone…"

She removed her hand and let him tap his way out to the balcony. She stood there, unable to do anything.

It was well past dark when he returned to the room, Pen had already gone to bed. He tapped his way over to his chair. He seated himself and turned his face to the fire. It would be so easy, break the fragile bond and walk into the labyrinth. He remembered that voice, the voice of his child; genderless and regretful at its own loss.

"Atheir..." Said a small voice at the door.

He jumped, the door creaked. Small bare feet plodded across the stones. Tam Lin had escaped his keepers again.

"Cois tine fitheach beag..." He said.

The boy plodded over to him, his nightshirt a bit oversized and what looked like a stuffed doll under his arm. He could tell most of this just by sound, the doll was new the fabric still smelling of the loom that made it.

"Sleep here..." the boy murmured.

With care he picked up his son, putting him in his lap. The boy snuggled in, gripping on to his tunic.

It was a strange sensation to feel those small hands gripping into the fabric. The last time he'd held Tam Lin, the boy had been wailing with cold and hunger. He brought his arms around the small boy, who had fallen asleep almost immediately. Ten years he'd been denied his son, denied his bond mate who slept alone in their bed. He thought how happy Nuala would have been to know he had a son. Perhaps she had known, had contact with him. He did not hear Pen's steps come to the chair.

"...Escaped his keepers again did he?" She whispered, quietly moving to the other chair.

Yes, and found me here. He sent not wishing to wake Tam Lin.

Pen noticed the doll, dressed in red and black. She knew who it was supposed to be, but in the way of all dolls distorted.

It seems our little raven thinks highly of his father…

Tam Lin let out a small sound and snuggled in closer, clearly dreaming.

And what evidence do you have of that? He replied with a touch of sarcasm.

His doll is male, has pointed ears and is dressed in your colors…

Nuada raised an eyebrow, he knew all children played with some type of doll.

So it would seem he does, there is no shame in that…

No there is not…

Go back to bed little human, I will remain with him until his keepers come to find him

She rose, yawning softly.

The door creaked softly, one of the nursery maids came through the door. They had checked all the beds and found themselves one short. Now that Tam Lin knew his way to them, it would be a simple deduction to find him.

"I'll take him now Lord Silverlance..." the maid said.

Nuada carefully rose, "It is time for you to sleep in your own bed, fitheach beag…"

There was a small protest, but a few murmured words got the small fists released from the fabric.

He stroked the boy's head.

"oíche mhaith mo mhac..." He whispered softly.

The maid took his son, the small boy was so deeply asleep he did not know he'd been taken.

"Come to bed..." Pen whispered softly. "Let my nearness calm your mind…"

He turned to make his way to the bed, yes sleep would be good.

_Dawn, Jareth's study…_

Jareth looked over the invitation list, sighing. It appeared a duet of Life singers was a rare thing, or perhaps because one of them was human it made the nobility crawl out of the woodwork. Near four hundred nobles had requested invitations add to the five he'd actually invited. Near a thousand people would be flooding his castle. Security was going to be a nightmare, not to mention personal bodyguards and hired mercenaries. Any of a dozen nobles would jump at the chance to entice a Singer to their service, especially one as rare as Pen.

The knock was soft as if half expecting someone not to be there. He called for them to enter, looking up to see Pen.

"Tam Lin found his way to Nuada and I again last night." She said softly.

"Sit, " He said. "Do you fear for him?"

"Yes, especially with the ball. I know these things are nightmares for those who hold them."

Jareth nodded, setting down his quill. "Your upcoming performance with Jaeren has brought out the best and worst of the Fae Nobility, it would be a wise idea to carry a blade upon your person."

He watched her hand tremble, she had not picked up a blade since the accident.

"With the ball, I have little to spare." He said. "Overcome your fear, work…"

He set a blade upon the desk, much like her own but different, the handle of bone was from a creature long vanished from both above and below.

"This is the blade that killed Balor, I wanted it as a remembrance of an old friend. What do you think Nuada would do if he knew I had this?"

"Walk into the Labyrinth and let himself be eaten by the biggest and nastiest of its citizens."

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "...most likely in his present state. Before then, it did not stop him from attempting to summon up the army, nor sacrifice the last forest elemental to further his plans."

"He pays for it now, in his grief, all that has been lost."

Jareth looked at her, her hair still messy from the bed.

"He has nightmares?"

"None he remembers." She said. "For that the gods both above and below are kind."

"You've not slept well."

Jareth's statement brought a look to her eyes that surprised him.

"I sleep well enough," she said softly. "I do not know who he mourns the hardest for, Nuala or our lost child…"

He knew long ago appearances could be deceiving, even for one such as Nuada Silverlance.

"The ball is in two weeks," Jareth said. "Nobles will be arriving tomorrow, you must make it seem Lord Silverlance is in good health and no threat to the other nobles."

"Must you ask such deception of me?"

Jareth frowned. "Let us talk of this when your eyes are not clouded by sleep."

He got her to rise and got a human-like goblin to escort her back to Nuada's chambers.

Sara came through one of the secret passages a few moments later. Eyeing the blade upon the desk. She had left their son in the care of one of the nursery maids.

"...What is your old blade doing on the desk." She asked.

Jareth turned and sighed. "An object lesson for a reluctant singer…"

"You can't force her, wounding her lover affected her…"

"I know, precious." He said. "But there are dangers soon to be within the castle She cannot be protected from by my people."

"The other nobles, it did not go well the last time…"

Jareth frowned, truly it had not gone well. A small band of them had assaulted both Pen and Nuada.

"I shall give her dispensation to defend herself." He said. "Jaeren will know how to defend her to the council if they make a stink about her silting open some bastard's throat."

"I do not trust your brother..." She said softly.

"I do not trust him either, but the Singer is of his bloodline."

Sara was a bit stunned. "I thought…"

"She is human, he sired her bloodline many generations ago," Jareth said. "When he was young and stupid…"

"What are you not telling me Jareth." Sara said.

He sighed, this was one of the few things he'd not discussed with Sara over their courtship. The memory of his elder brother's loss was too painful and Jaeren's abandonment of his duties too sore a subject.

"I should never have been king, but he joined the guild shortly before our elder brother died," he said. "Jaeren is elder by an hour…"

Sara put her arms around him. "If you had not become king, you would not have me."

He smiled, shaking his head. "I would have found you, fate herself would not have kept me from you."

"...She doesn't know about the guard then." Sara said. "That they were princes of their houses or the armor they wore."

"No, some of the nobles would have welcomed Silverlance as High King. It was the loss of their sons among the guard that has them screaming for his blood."

Jareth remembered wearing that armor, being unable to talk save as a Raven until the armor was removed. The carnage Nuada and wink had left behind had only served as fuel for those who said the prince had been mad.

"The Singers, you said they long ago stepped away from the conflict...why?"

"Two lovers. One human, the other a Fey prince...the human was the first human singer...chosen by the prince to be his bride." Jareth sighed. "It is all I know of the legend. Jaeren could tell you more."

"Do you think history is repeating itself?"

Jareth looked at her and shook his head.

"No, though history echoes." He said. "Come I need a hand at turning down about three hundred nobles…"

Sara smiled, though worried about having that many people in the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cois tine fitheach beag: (Irish) by the fire little raven  
> fitheach beag:(Irish) little raven  
> oíche mhaith mo mhac:(Irish) Good night my son


	26. Yule ball

_Four days later..._

Time passed as a whirlwind, when she wasn't practicing her planned sets, Pen was attempting to relearn her confidence with her blades. The confidence was harder than to memorize the tunes that she'd accompany Jaeren on. By the end of each session with her blades, her hands hurt. She gripped the hilts tightly, she kept seeing Nuada before her with her blade in his chest. She would pause then, only to be driven to begin again.

"...Your hands." Nuada said when she touched him.

"It is nothing, I'm practicing much too hard."

He took on of her hands and traced the blisters that had formed where once callouses rested.

"Do not let what happened to me stop you." He said softly. "I want our children to know that women can be warriors too."

This surprised her. "There were none in your culture..."

"Women are quite different warriors than men." He said. "They stood as our strength, and comfort defended our children..."

She shook her head. "I am no warrior."

He was silent for long moments.

"Tam Lin must begin to learn, to take his place..."

"I know, do you know any who would shake the glory of war from his head."

He touched the scar upon his face. His initiation into warrior society had been upon a battlefield, he remembered the cut of the blade into his skin.

"Were the Fey who trained me still alive...he would learn quickly what a warrior is."

Her hand came to touch his, she'd seen enough of scars like this.

"The first bloodshed..." She whispered softly. "Delivered by your father's hand..."

He shook his head. "By an old grizzled captain, but before my father's eyes."

She traced the scar and then his lips.

"Our son escaped his keepers again last night." She whispered. "I heard the nursery maid come in to escort him away."

"Our little raven seems to have a knack for escaping his keepers." He said. "He wants to be near us."

"You're afraid..."

He closed his eyes, "Yes, I am. The darkness that drove me to wipe your people off Gaia's skin is still within me, I struggle every moment not to push you and our son away from me in disgust. I do not want him near me if that darkness wins..."

She had known for a long time that the "other" Nuada lay sleeping deep in his heart festering the hole that had formed. The balance was still so fragile, one wrong step and the darkness would rise.

"I will stand between you and that darkness." She whispered. "As I have since I found you again."

He leaned his head forward so that it came to rest upon hers. She could feel the struggle in him, the "other" coming into half wakefulness.

She felt his grip upon her hands tighten ever so slightly, and heard his breath change pitch. She leaned up and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, he groaned. He tore away from the kiss, his hands were trembling in hers. The conflict was written upon his face.

"Lust..." He whispered softly. "Heat my blood with lust..."

She kissed him again, pushing him back toward the bed. She paused only long enough to pull his tunic over his head before pushing him down.

She straddled him kissing his lips and then moving downward. When she looked up from teasing her tongue around his navel, his head was arched back and his hands had a death grip on the sheets. She blew softly over the short silver hairs.

Do you want this, my love...

The only coherent thought she got was a softly hissed yes.

Her fingers hooked over the rapidly tenting silk and gently pulled. She kissed and nuzzled, applied fingers and tongue. She could almost hear fabric tear when her lips sank upon him.

It was not long before one of his hands became fisted in her hair, his hips arching. She knew his release was near and pulled away slowly.

"Please..." He panted.

She put a finger to his lips as she rose up, gently guiding. She had shed her clothes sometime between pressing him to the bed and this moment. She sank down, moaning softly. His hands moved to her hips, gripping tightly. She'd have bruises, but they were worth it. He gasped as she began to move.

Release came with a strangled sound, the "other" adding indignation to his cry. She could feel his fingers still gripped tight upon her hips. She began to move again.

"Enough..." He panted and rolled her over so that he was above. "It is enough..."

He closed his eyes.

Sing for me...Sing me into sleep...

The request seemed odd after all this time, she reached up to place her hand upon his heart.

Truly my love?

Truly...Sing me to sleep.

Her hands moved to his back, slowly caressing as she began to sing.

It was a long time later that Pen slowly moved out from under Nuada, his body still slack in sleep. That had been the first time in weeks he had visibly struggled with his old self. She looked at him as he lay upon the blankets, studding his back. The scars were ridged upon his muscles, she'd have to get him to exercise, to build up those muscles again. She ran her fingers down his back, tracing along his spine. His masculine beauty was clear as the fading light played upon his skin. She rose up, reaching for her robe.

_The Royal Chambers..._

Jareth frowned, within two days he'd have over half his guest list inhabiting the castle or the inns within the city itself. Already he had guests inquiring as to wither Jaeren and Pen would be performing every night before the ball. He had politely told them that the two singers were saving their voices and would not be attending meals in the hall. The last more of a precaution upon his part to keep the curious away from Pen.

He had been delighted to hear she had again picked up her blades again. He'd observed her, the grace was still there but the power behind the thrusts and parries was long in coming. She'd need that power, to prove to any that she was not a target they wanted to sight. He turned to look at Sara, who was at her dressing table. She had taken out the Opel to wear to dinner to go with the dress she'd chosen. There were times his breath caught as he looked at her.

"...The rumors are rife." Sara said. "It still seems there are some who believe you purchased Pen to be your mistress..."

"And you are trying hard not to play the Jealous wife..." He chuckled. "Those that know me will not make much of the rumors."

"Anywho care to look can see she is quite besotted with Silverlance..." She said. "I've had seven people come to me to offer their sympathies that I had been replaced..."

"Pen's absence may put to rest many of the rumors." He said. "though the Steward is quite insistent, he is here as the king's representative tonight."

Sara frowned. "...Why does he want her, she turned him down flat more than once."

Jareth shook his head. "Some do not get the point unless it's stuck in something vital. He is as greedy as Finnas, even more so some have said."

"Have you chosen your attire for the ball..." She asked, changing the subject.

"I was thinking of the jacket I wore to our first dance..."

She turned and smiled. "...Perhaps I should see if the dress still fits..."

He laughed. "IF not my dear I can have it adjusted."

She smiled. "My Goblin king..."

"My queen..." He said softly. "Perhaps we can stave off dinner..."

She laughed softly. "Don't you dare, I spent the last three hours getting into this dress.."

He pouted, "As my queen wishes, But I will see you out of it..."

She turned and kissed his cheek "Most definitely..."

He gave her a soft smile and reached for his waistcoat and jacket.

_The next day, the training hall..._

The kata drew her attention, each movement an act of will. Pen moved with the grace of one who had long practiced but became rusty. Her body remembered so the movements came without thinking. She executed a perfect lunge as Jareth came in.

"...Put more force behind it." Jareth said. "And you could punch through the veil..."

She transferred both blades to one hand and moved to snatch up a towel with the other.

"I've never seen a pair of blades like yours..."

"I hope not, they are based on an above-ground weapon. I don't know its proper name, but nested blades are unusual."

May I?"

She transferred the one blade back to hand and presented them to Jareth. He took them to inspect them.

"No guard, hilts made of wood..." He said. "Short blades..."

"I was told the wood was from the Grandfather tree, but I'm in doubt of that." she said, wiping the back of her neck with the towel. "I do not know where the iron came from, the mithril came from a mail coat belonging to a halfling, descended from a man named Samwise Gamgee..." she smiled. "Though if he was Tolkin's Samwise I do not know." She wiped off her face. "...to this day, I do not know what possessed the High King to gift me with such a rare weapon..."

Jareth studied the blades, he could feel the iron in them. He'd held blades such as this as one of the Raven Guard.

"A royal guards weapon for a human...perhaps Balor saw something in you others have not." He said, presenting the blades back to her. "...Where is Lord Silverlance?"

"I left him sleeping, I thought it best I get my practice out of the way so I can focus upon the songs I must sing."

"Jaeren told me you were going to be singing with him on a few tunes." He said. "I was wondering if you were going to be singing solo at some point."

She sheathed the blades. "Yes, but it will depend on the mood of the hall after Jaeren sings."

"I'm sure the mood will be good..." Jareth said. "have you chosen the colors you will wear?"

"I was going to wear Nuada's, but having seen how many nobles have been arriving I've thought better of it."

"...Wise choice." Jareth said. "Then I take it that it will be singer gray?"

"No, I've gone with blue...though I've not told Nuada this..."

"Will he be upset by your choice?"

She sighed. "Blue was his sister's favorite color..."

Jaeth paused. "I will see that another shade is chosen for you, perhaps choose it for another performance. I cannot let it be known how fragile he is, he must appear no threat..."

"He is no threat, not in his present state." She said, looking Jareth up and down. "Though I suspect not all would believe that."

"You would be correct in that assumption." Jareth said. "the High King sits on his throne because people are afraid, by all rights it should be Either Silverlance or Tam Lin on the throne with a regent." He sighed. "Forgive me, I forget you know of court intrigues even if you do not partake of them."

"I know of Balor's death well enough, my Guild mourned his passing." She said. "But I am of two minds when it comes to the treaties made in an age when man still remembered." She turned to go. "I am not so sure that Nuada's views of the majority of humanity were so flawed..."

Jareth was surprised, he had never heard of a human speaking of this.

"Would you have marched to war at his side?"

She paused "...That Goblin King, I cannot answer, but I would not have stood in his way..."

He stood there watching her go, her blades in her hand.

_A week later, an hour before the Ball..._

Pen looked in the mirror, her dark hair was twined with purls, and sapphires the size of robin's eggs. The dress matched in hues of sky and water, that she had not comprised on. She sent an image of herself to Nuada through their link. He had appeared pleased with a touch of sadness to see another in his sister's favored hues. She had dressed him in his customary black, adding a touch of red with his sash. He sat beside the fire, Tam Lin in his lap. The boy was dressed in similar hues to his father, though the sash bore the crest of the Royal house.

Jareth had agreed to let the boy attend with them, on the condition that one of them retire with him when the hour grew late. It had already been decided that Pen would retire, better to dispel rumors. She made her way over to the chair to tell Nuada she was ready to go.

"Mathair go halainn..." Tam Lin said, looking up at her.

"Of course she is fitheach beag ..." Nuada said softly. "I believe it is time for us to go to dinner..."

The little boy got off his father's lap and waited for him to rise before taking his hand.

"Athair I lead..."

"No fitheach beag, you walk with your mother..." Nuada said. "I will follow behind."

Tam Lin looked at him slightly askance.

"Why Athair..."

"To protect us..." She said holding out Nuada's staff and her hand. "Come now, we mustn't keep King Jareth and his guests waiting..."

Tam Lin let go of his father's hand and took his mother's and watched his father take the staff from her.

"Lead the way..." Nuada whispered to her, kissing her forehead.

She smiled, feeling his had come to rest upon her shoulder as she led the way out.

_The Banquet hall..._

The meal was well underway when they arrived. The chamberlain announced them, making all turn toward them. Tam Lin sunk against Pen when he noticed people starring at them.

"It is ok fitheach beag, we won't let anything happen to you." Pen whispered.

All the men stood up when she entered, at least giving most the appearance of gentlemen. Some were stunned when they noticed the small boy holding her hand. The soft hiss of whispers seemed to rise and fall. They approached the high table and bowed before Jareth, who with an incline of his head acknowledged them. They were then escorted to their seats.

_Sometime later..._

Dinner passed with many rumors being passed about. Some were rather nasty, implying Jareth's "affair" with the singer went back before Queen Sara. Why else would the singer appear with a child if it was not Jareth's. They didn't seem to notice that Nuada kept himself close to her and the small boy. Tam Lin would look now and again at his father, wondering why he had such a sour look on his face.

"Mathair why is athair so upset?" Tam Lin asked.

"People are saying things they should not about me and King Jareth..."

"But you love athair..."

"I know little raven, but some people cannot see what is before them." She said. "I'm going to perform with Jaeren, you have to stay here with your father. I'll only be in the center of the room..."

Tam Lin nodded and tried to see where his mother would be. Suddenly two pillows were under his backside elevating him slightly over the table.

"...Say thank you to King Jareth..." Nuada reminded his son.

"Go Rabh mait agat..." Tam Lin said softly

"Your welcome Prince Tam Lin..." Jareth said.

Nuada turned his attention to the center of the room when Pen and Jaeren were preforming.

There was plight applause at the end of each song, their voices showing off their ranges. Then Jaeren left the Dais to Pen. She paused a moment and began, singing of Rivendell. She then turned to a lullaby for a child, her voice lilting as if knowing she sang the child into final rest. Jareth heard that song long ago, though sung in baritone. Sara gripped his hand, she knew he had other children. Some of them she had met at their wedding, others only as markers upon cairns.

"Why is Mathair crying..." Tam Lin asked his father.

"It is a very sad song," Nuada said softly.

Tam Lin frowned, he didn't like it when his mother cried.

Jareth turned to Sara, giving her a small smile. He knew why Pen had chosen that particular lullaby, a mourning song for her lost child.. The applause was measured, some wondering why such a sad tune was sung on such a joyous occasion. She gave her bow and turned the Dais over to Jaeren. She returned to the table, smiling at both Nuada and Tam Lin. She seated herself and took up the goblet. Her throat was dry, having sung across her whole range. She sniffed what was in it.

"Something wrong?" Jareth asked.

"The wine smells funny..."

Jareth took the goblet and sniffed. A very unpleasant smell rose from the liquid.

"Indeed," Jareth said. "Though no one has touched it since your departure. Wine does not sour this quickly." He offered her his goblet, knowing how it would appear. "Here, drink of mine..."

She nodded graciously but refused it. "Think of how this appears, your majesty..."

Jareth nodded and took a drink from his goblet, smirking.

Nuada was not oblivious to this, he could have almost believed the rumors if he did not know they were groundless. His sharp ears had heard many this night, One implying that Tam Lin was Jareth's child. He would have loved to find the one who started it and rip their heart out through their throat. The rumors that Pen was Jareth's mistress also brought this thought to his head. She belonged to him, even the "other" agreed on this; she was "their" lover.

How can you sit there and listen to them speak of her that way...the darkness growled in the back of his mind.

She is ours clear enough... he hissed back.

The bond is still fragile...or have you forgotten how quickly...

"Lord Silverlance..."

Nuada turned his attention to the voice. He heard Pen singing, having returned to the Dais.

"It is good to see you well..."

He licked his lips and nodded.

"I had heard you were quite ill.."

"I am not as you see." He said. "What is it that you must disturb my enjoyment?"

Tam Lin tugged on his sleeve, "Athair..."

He turned to his son.

"Yes, fitheach beag ."

"Can I learn to sing like Mathair?"

"If you wish, perhaps Jaeren can give you lessons. We shall ask him after tonight..."

The person attached to the voice gasped, "Forgive me Lord Silverlance, I did not see the child."

"He is mine, born of my seed..." the words came out on a low hiss.

The person backed up, "I'll bid you good night..."

Nuada took in a breath, the "other" was prevalent this night.

"What is wrong Athair?"

Tam Lin was definitely a perceptive child.

"It is nothing fitheach beag, just someone who is blind to what is before them."

The child must have accepted that as he did not ask anymore.

Jareth had heard Nuada hiss at the courtier who had no doubt come to taunt him over some trivial thing. It did not bode well for the image he wished to give the other nobles. He knew soon enough another rumor would be circulating, this one no doubt saying the singer was passing off Jareth's bastard off as lord Silverlance's child. Sara's hand covered his, an assurance that she did not believe the rumors.

"...They will believe what they wish." She whispered.

"if the rumors get out of hand...the High king may have to step in." He whispered back. "And knowing Finnas' love of gossip and intrigue..."

"They must have a witness to your "affair" do they not?" Sarah said, a smirk on her face.

He smiled. "Yes, but there is a room full of nobles who watched me offer my goblet to her..."

"Hers was tampered with, we have proof of that..."

Jareth turned and frowned, the goblet had been removed.

"No longer...it is gone."

Sarah turned and frowned, a servant had come to clear away the table so the dance could begin.

Pen returned to the table, smiling. She took her seat, knowing that several nobles would be coming to Jareth with gifts for her. Jaeren was sitting to Jareth's left to receive his tributes. Tam Lin's eyes grew wide when he saw some of the gifts his mother was given. Gifts of Gems, wrought gold and silver, tokens of safe passage. Someone had even given her a roll seal depicting a procession to the Gray havens. The young Prince would turn to his father now and again, asking what something was. Nuada would calmly tell him, but it was the comments his sharp ears picked up that was slowly picking at his nerves.

The ball was soon commenced, minstrels playing and the exchange of gifts. Pen noticed Nuada's agitation, and made note to ask him to escort her in putting Tam Lin to bed. She rose and turned to her son.

"...Are you ready to go, little Raven?"

Tam Lin made a disappointed sound, it wasn't even bed time. She leaned in and quietly explained.

"Your father is not enjoying the ball, people are saying bad things...about me and King Jareth. It is making him mad, I do not want a fight."

"Athair not happy?"

"No little Raven, your father is not happy." She said.

"Leaving will make Athair happy?"

"Yes little raven." She said, picking him up.

She then moved to Nuada, a gentle hand on his shoulder turned his head to her.

"Escort me..." She said softly.

With quiet movements, Nuada rose from the table, gripping the staff.

Jareth noticed the small family leave the hall, and the gossip became more open. He was not liking the rumors he was hearing. The most prevalent was the attendance of Tam Lin, usually no children attended. He had granted the young prince attendance because of his mother's performing that night. Other rumors reached his ears, some harmless others spoken in the wrong ears bring an end to an innocent woman. He knew the source of some of those rumors, a certain steward of the Royal Court.

"...The rumors are unfounded brother, save for this incident." The elder singer whispered into his ear.

"...That combined with Tam Lin's attendance does not look well." He said. "They half believe he is one of my bastards already..."

Jaeren frowned. "You've claimed each and every one of your children..."

"Yes, but the court would believe otherwise." He said, noticing the eldest living of his children was in deep conversation with a little princess from one of the three royal houses.

"He has been courting her for an age..." Jaeren said softly. "Ever since he returned from Balor's court..."

Jareth nodded, he had been fortunate His son had not been there when the Raven guard had been slaughtered. If that had happened...the dark thought showed him its outcome. Nuada would never have lived out the four months prior to his exile. Sara's gentle hand upon his turned his thoughts, bringing them back to a happier tone.

_In the hall outside Nuada's chambers..._

Tam Lin looked up at his father, watching the frown on his face. Feeling the boy's eyes upon him, Nuada turned his attention to Tam Lin.

"What is it little raven.."

The boy turned his face away, having been caught.

"I will not be mad at your answer." He assured the boy.

"Why are you unhappy..."

He paused, not expecting that question.

"People were saying bad things about your mother..." He said. "They made me upset..."

Tam Lin looked at him. "Do you love Mathair?'

He could not help but smile at the boy. "With all my heart, little raven, with all my heart,"

Pen had opened the door and motioned both of them in.

"Go sit by the fire little raven, we will tell you a story before bed..."

Tam Lin rushed over and waited for his father.

_The ball..._

Jareth was watching his guests, one of them had set him up to found rumors about him and the young singer. Sarah had made excuses to depart, more to draw out whoever had set him up. Two had already come to him to hear his denial of the rumors. It was not good, he saw the steward talking to a guard who had more brains then scruples. No doubt the man was plotting something. It was no secret that the High King's steward had an unhealthy obsession with the young Singer, even before he'd been elevated to that high position. He had the same assumption as most of the nobility did of the Singer. He would never accept that her heart belonged to an exiled Fey lord.

_Nuada's chambers, sometime later..._

They had surrendered Tam Lin to the nursery maid a short time ago. The little prince had been reluctant to go, but the promise of lunch in the hedge maze got him to go to bed. They still sat by the fire, but in one chair, Pen curled in Nuada's lap. She was asleep, he was still awake.

"How long has it been, my little human." He whispered. "Since that Yule night, you staid for a moment to take the mug from my hand..."

The memory of that night was hard to recall, but he remembered how she had blushed at his subtle attention.

"...If I had known..."

He closed his eyes as he carefully rose with her in his arms.

He knew the room well enough so finding the bed had been no trouble. He laid her upon the bed, before shedding his tunic and boots. She had changed clothes while he'd distracted their son with a story about Wink, his dearest friend. He pulled the covers out from beneath her gently, before crawling in with her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, she turned in his arms so she could lay closer.

"Sleep my little human..." He whispered. "and dream..."

He hoped she dreamed again of seeds, planted in hope and love. Her hand coming to rest on his heart, gave him comfort as he drifted into sleep.


	27. Pawn in the game

_Laying in Pen's arms, Nuada remembered..._

He'd kept looking at his hand as he paced back and forth outside the room. It itched to hold something wither her hand or the blade tucked in his sash he didn't quite know. He had been torn over those seven months, between training her to use the weapons his father had granted her and the fact she was with his child. It wasn't until the cries of pain began that he realized it was the hand she'd placed on her belly four months previous. That delicate spark of life that had met his touch was awe for him.

It had seemed an eternity before another cry came from the room, near inaudible save to his ears. He'd placed his hand upon the door to enter and take the child, but it opened and the elder singer stood there with a small tightly wrapped bundle.

"A son..." The man said, holding the bundle out.

Moments after, his arms were molded around such a tiny form. He had been so afraid until he saw the child's large green eyes looking up at him. He raised one finger to touch the delicate skin that so matched his. His heart all but stopped when a tiny hand curled around that finger. He had a son, a princeling. The spell was broken when the child let out a high thin wail, and he was taken from him.

Now as he lay beside the mother of his child, that memory seemed to play again and again. It had been a turning point, what he had done after now sickened him. Late that night he'd stole into the nursery and had taken the child. With heavy heart, he had intended to erase what the darkness within had labeled a mistake.

He'd taken the child into the fields, shorne of their grain and only the gleeing remaining. He'd laid the child down and knelt, drawing his blade. He'd raised it, aiming for the child's heart. The blade came down and his own seemed to stop, the blade rested an inch from the child's flesh. Wink held his hand in a grip that would have crushed it if he struggled. The Ogre squeezed just enough to make him drop the blade.

"Take him back..." Wink snarled. "He has no part in your war or your hate..."

He had lunged at the ogre and remembered the snap his arm had made.

"I will break you to pieces if I must and take the child back myself."

His shoulder had been dislocated and his hand, arm, and wrist broke before he realized what he had almost done.

The next memory was of cradling the wailing child in his uninjured arm and stumbling back to the village. A woman and the elder singer were waiting for him as if they had known what he had attempted to do. With great care, he'd laid the child in the woman's arms.

"The young prince must have a name..."

He'd looked at the child, remembering the child's mother, her singing...

"Tam Lin...son of Nuada, Silverlance..." He breathed. "Tell..."

He had collapsed then, only to wake being carried by Wink along some forest trail. His arm bound against his body with heavy linen strips.

He could sometimes feel the ache now when the cold grew bitter. He slowly extracted himself from her, giving her temple a soft kiss. He reached for something on a hook and slid his robe on as he felt his way to the balcony doors. The glass was cold to his touch, and the soft whistle of the wind told him going out wasn't a good idea. He turned and padded toward the fire, banked for the night. He sat in his chair, waiting for that child to come to him.

It was not long before small feet came padding up to him, and asked to be lifted up. He put the boy in his lap and held him. He remembered Wink's words, it had been true the boy had no part in his war or the hatred he had felt. He heard Pen come toward the chair, turning his head to greet her.

Our little Raven seems to like nesting here...

She gave a mental laugh. Indeed he does.

I did not mean to wake you, my mind is too full for sleep.

I could not sleep either, I am worried about what happened at dinner.

Most likely some jealous courtier...

She shook her head. The rumors were getting dangerous, said in the right ears...I could lose you both again.

What would your guild do to you if said ears heard those rumors?

I could never set foot in any realm but my own...most likely I would be confined to one of the Markets.

She felt his sadness at this, she was what stood between him and the darkness of what he had been.

We will stop the rumors, become my bride...

She did not know what to say to this, he had asked before and she'd denied him. She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

If Jareth and my guild allow...

He had almost forgotten the guild had to be told and approve.

The guild I know, but why Jareth?

He is my current patron...I must have permission from his court to wed. She sighed. He is a king and I am currently one of his subjects.

The nursery maid came in, Nuada rose and gently handed over his son. He whispered soft words, to get the boy to let go of his tunic. Such words still felt so foreign upon his tongue.

"...Perhaps we should have a cot brought for him." She whispered when the maid left. "He comes to find us every night."

Nuada shook his head. "It would be dangerous, with all the threats...I do not wish him to be a target for them."

She felt the echo of the memory that had roused him from their bed. Her hand touched his arm, the fractures had long healed. He almost pulled back from her touch, as if it was still sore.

"...the bones ache some times." He said. "Wink knew what he was doing..."

"He prevented you from making a terrible mistake, one you would have regretted once you came to your senses..."

"...I came to them far from where I had left our son." He leaned into her. "Even my madness had a price..."

She stroked his face. "He lived because of Wink's loyalty to the vows he made to protect you."

He made a small noise, it hurt to remember the Ogre who had followed him for centuries.

"I grow cold..." He turned toward the bed.

She led him toward the hearth, pulling him along gently by the loose silk pants held up by just a sash.

"Where do you think you're taking me, little human?"

He could feel her grin.

"Perhaps to bed or perhaps upon an adventure..."

She yanked upon the sash sending the silk to pool at his ankles. He "Looked" down and then at her as her hand gently cupped him. He leaned down to kiss her, pulling her close.

Her fingers were warm, gentle upon him. The rhythm matched her kisses. His hands came up to pull at her nightdress. She paused long enough to pull it over her head, leaving her skin bare to his touch. Her thumb stroked over the sheathed tip as it swelled in her fingers.

"Why..." He asked softly as his breathing changed

"I want you..." She said, her fingers softly tugged. "I want..."

He pulled her closer, his breath coming in soft gasps from her touch.

"...Here, I want you here..."

In the next instant, they were upon the hearth rug, withering together in passion.

He rolled to his back, pulling her over him. He wanted this surrender, to be beneath her touch. It had been a simple touch that sparked his infatuation with her. Her fingers had left his member and were stroking up his ribs. The soft gasp he let out drew her attention to his lips, which she kissed softly. He was beautiful to her, even more so when his face reflected the passion of their union.

He knew his back would be raw in the morning, from being abraded upon the hearth rug. He did not care, he only wanted to be touched this night. Her body was moving, and he responded with movement of his own. Time had no meaning as they became one. Thus it was throughout the night.

Dawn found them back in their bed, buried beneath several quilts and comforters still twined together. A harsh pounding and shouted voices woke Pen first, she untangled herself from Nuada and the covers. She'd have some choice words for whoever thought dawn was a good time to disturb someone. She drew on her robe and went to answer the door.

Jareth and two of the Raven guard stood outside. She backed up a few paces, this was not what she wanted to see first thing in the morning. Jareth stepped in and gently escorted her out.

"The High King wishes to have an audience with Nuada..." Jareth said on a low voice. "You will remain in the castle...Jaeren has taken responsibility for you and Tam Lin giving your guild's protection."

The two guards dragged Nuada out, he'd struggled and they had used force to get him subdued.

"No..." She shouted pulling against Jareth's grasp. "What has he done..."

The guards ignored her, pushing passed her. She wished for her blades.

Jareth let her go when the guards vanished, he knew she was angry. He had a feeling he was about to be the target of her harangue.

"...What the frill was that about." She hissed

"The High King..."

"Frill the High King." She said. "He's done nothing wrong, and kept to the terms of your Frilling exile."

"Calm down..."

"Don't tell me to frilling calm down.." She reared back and decked Jareth. "Oh Crap..."

Jareth got to his feet, spat blood to the floor and tested his jaw. He'd have a decent shiner a while later.

"That was unbecoming one of your guild..." Jareth said. "I could throw you in an oubliette, but all that will do is piss you off more. I will let Jaeren deal with you..."

He left her standing there, caught between anger and embarrassment.

Jaeren found her in the sally, her blades singing as they cut the air. By the way she was moving he could tell she hadn't gotten over the events of the morning. He'd offered her the protection of their guild because he knew once in the king's hands there would be little chance that she'd be allowed escape.

"...It was not a wise move to lay out your patron." He said watching her go through the Kata again. "Even if he was being an ass."

"I don't really care at the moment." She said, near breathless. "All I want to know is why the frilling High King wanted my..."

"Lover..." Jaeren sighed. "You know Finnas' feelings about the House of Bethmora."

"How could I not, the rat bastard stole the throne out from under its rightful claimant..." She said. "It should be Tam Lin..." She stopped. "Listen to me, I'm behaving as if Nuada's anger is mine..."

"You carry the simplest of emotional bonds to him." He approached and guided her to the bench. "If it gets stronger or weaker it will depend upon you..." He put the towel around her shoulders and took her blades from her hands. "Right now you will be better served if you side with the guild on the matter."

"What would that be, that he is a traitor and regicide..." she said. "Or perhaps that he murdered his father..."

"Your temper is getting the best of you." He said, looking at her hands. "Your hands are bleeding, you should have worn the gloves I had made for you."

"No not lecture me Jaeren, I'm not seventeen anymore..." She said, taking the towel and wiping her hands. "You told me my son had been taken, you neglected to say he'd been brought back..."

Jaeren frowned, perhaps the bond was stronger than he thought.

"It was for the best, you would have been in no shape to care for a child...alone." He said. "Silverlance would not have staid..."

She rose and took her blades from him, "You made me forget him, and my son. That I cannot forgive you for or the fact you concealed the truth from me."

"I am offering you the protection of the Guild."

"At what price." She hissed. "Guild heads do not offer for free, that I have learned all too well."

"Renounce your bond."

She shook her head. "...That I will not do. I was robbed of a chance to heal him then, I will not be robbed of it now."

Jaeren looked stunned, he had raised her to be differing to "stronger" heads, but this was a shock.

"IF you are finished being the King's mouthpiece I shall bid you Good day..." She said turning out of the sally.

Jaeren was left to wonder if that had been the child he knew and raised or the woman the world had shaped.

_Jareth's study_

The Goblin King smirked as he watched Pen walk away from Jaeren. It hurt to smile, but he quite couldn't get the grin off his face. The crystal popped as he leaned back against the divan. His jaw still ached, he had to admit Pen had a good right hook on her. He did not blame her, he'd be pissed too if someone had come saying the High King wanted an audience with Sara at the crack of dawn and he could not follow. A sharp rap upon the door told him where Jaeren had come to fume.

"Enter brother..." He said, groaning.

Jaeren was furious, and barely holding the Glamour that made both of them look more human.

"You should have warned me..." Jaeren hissed.

"If I had, dear brother, what would you have done," Jareth said. "Perhaps hold Tam Lin over her head like you have been doing for the last ten years..." He rose from the divan. "She is the sole reason Silverlance is alive at this moment. Finnas would not be such a fool as to execute him, not when he wants so much more."

"We both know what he wants..."

Jareth sighed. "I'm not going to give him Pen, she belongs to Silverlance and the House of Bethmora..." He poured himself a glass of brandy. "You knew that when You presented her to the Court."

"Damn your oath, Jareth." Jaeren hissed.

"At least I have kept mine..." Jareth said. "Or have you forgot the lessons that have played out before you."

Jaeren took a swing, Jareth caught his hand.

"That was foolish, Go back to your guild hall brother." He said. "Before I banish you from my kingdom, the Young Singer and her son stay here...and if you ever allow the passage of Finnas' minions into the Labyrinth again brother or no you will be tried for treason."

Jaeren turned on his heels and went to prepare to leave.

_An hour later..._

Pen knocked at Jareth's door, he had half expected her after Jaeren's departure. He bade her enter and offered her tea. She looked at it wearily before taking a few sips, it tasted of peaches with a hint of honey.

"...You were never meant to be a pawn in the Court's game." He said to her. "Now it seems you may have no choice."

"I have learned there are always choices." She said. "It was mine to leave the enclave and find life among the hollow hearted...and mine to come here."

Jareth looked at her. "Where did you find such wisdom?"

"I knew Jaeren had plans for me when he forbid me from being courted by Nuada or any other man in the months leading up to being declared maiden." She said. "I could do little about them. I am not that child anymore, nor am I what Jaeren and the guild dreamed for me."

"It must have been a shock to learn who the elders had chosen for you..."

"Yes, it was." She said. "After he had been informed, he returned...The Ogre Wink, did something to him and he remained civil to me. That mask slipped only once when I placed his hand upon my swollen belly. For a moment there was awe and then he pulled his hand away. He became colder, after that..."

Jareth shook his head. "Yet he never raised a hand to you..."

"He tried, once...I do not think he could move for a week after the ogre found out."

He remembered what he'd been told about the Ogre, the great brute had no doubt beaten that civility into Silverlance.

"I will see what I can do about having him returned in one piece," Jareth said softly. "Go see to your son, he may need to be explained to why his father isn't here.."

She drank the last of her tea and nodded, it would keep her mind occupied.


	28. Bitter betrayal

Royal Place...Bethmora

The steward held Nuada's chin in a tight grip, the Fey lord's face was battered and bloody. He had spat in the man's face twice.

"...Is that the only weapon you have left, Silverlance..." The steward hissed. "I'm disappointed, I would have thought you'd gotten the little slut to teach you to wield your lance again."

Nuada said something in Quinna about the steward's ancestry involving several species of cave troll. It earned him another backhand to the face and a kick to his ribs.

"His majesty has given me leave to get you to sign your son's birthright over to him...Oh Bethmora will still be nobles...but they shall never have the throne again..."

More Quinna and some choice words in Gaelic, another backhand and kick. The steward grinned, he had just the weapon to break Nuada.

"...You know, the little bastard was supposed to be your assassin...oh yes, Finnas paid him well, used the old magick to make him age..." The steward whispered in his ear. "Night shade and iron are quite the way to go..."

That knowledge hit Nuada like a hammer blow to his guts. That was what Tam Lin had feared to tell them, it had been he who had been poisoning the herbs. He tried to reconcile this with the small boy who had been coming to fall asleep in his lap for over a month now. He remembered Jareth's words, Tam Lin did not remember his former life and was a child.

"What is the matter Silverlance, this too much for you?" The steward said. "Here let me alleviate your pain..."

The blade slipped between Nuada's ribs, driven deep and the blade broken off against bone.

"Bind him up, his Majesty will see him shortly..." The steward said. "Enjoy what is left of your life, Silverlance..."

When the steward left, Nuada began to feel dizzy and weak. Was this how the demon had felt when he'd driven his lance deep into his chest. He tasted blood, sharp and coppery against his tongue. He tried to keep his thoughts away from his little human, the one lifeline that had held the darkness at bay.

The Goblin kingdom...

Jareth looked over the correspondence he'd received from the various kingdoms of the underground. The one that made him pause was a royal warrant, for the excitation of Nuada Silverlance. Since Nuada had been in exile in his kingdom, such notice had to be given. The warrant also called for the arrest of Pen and her son. The Raven guard would be acquiring them in two days, he had that long to inform her of the death sentence upon her bond mate.

"...Is there any way?" Sara asked, setting a cup of tea upon his desk.

He looked up at her and shook his head.

"...Not without the Singer's guild, and after Jaeren's little stunt I doubt that avenue remains."

"They cannot cross our borders without the permission of one of your subjects, not even the High King himself..."

"There are many who would speak the words of welcome..."

Shouts and screams came from the corridor, along with the sound of clashing steel.

In the corridor...

Pen raised her blade to defend herself and the small child clinging to her side. She saw Jareth's study door open. She shoved Tam Lin inside.

"Stay with the King and Queen...and Remember Athair and I love you..." She shouted. "Always..."

The battle moved down the corridor, her dodging and weaving. The clash of steel upon steel as the guards tried to flank her.

Jareth had just enough time to catch the boy and notice upon her back was Nuada's lance, she wasn't going to go down without a fight. He yanked Tam Lin inside, barring the door.

"Take him to Hogwart and the others..." He said to Sara. "Gather our son as well, if I do not meet you in the forest...Return above...Hide in the Dublin market...and then to my mother's lands..."

"Jareth..."

"Finnas has gone too far this time, and I must find the traitor that allowed them into my kingdom." He said. "Go..quickly."

Sara grabbed Tam Lin's hand and hurried the boy into one of the many passages that ran between the walls of the castle. Jareth went and pulled his old blade, it was time to teach young Princes why only the "old" guard stood at the foot of the throne.

Hours later...

Jareth and Pen stumbled into the fireies forest, bloody exhausted and ready to kill the next thing that attacked them. Twenty guards, just to retrieve a woman and a child, All had met death upon Mithril iron. Hoggle and Sara met them at the hut and got them settled. Jareth had a large gash across his back, a lucky blow from a guard who was now in two pieces. Pen's right cheek bore the evidence of being struck with the hilt of a blade. Both were in sore need of food and rest.

Tam Lin rushed to his mother, wrapping his small arms around her waist. She held him against her, wincing. No fighter, she'd taken several blows before closing those gasps in her defenses. She turned to where Sara was tending Jareth. She saw several others, all bearing a keen resemblance to the Goblin king, his children. One held the helmet of the guards armor under one arm, his face drawn into a frown. Jareth only looked up at him and shook his head as the young man raised the helmet to his head. The Goblin king knew who the traitor was now...

"No, don't do this..."

"I'm sorry athair..."

Then where once a proud goblin prince stood, there was only a guard.

Too exhausted to protest when the young man took her arm in a bruising grip and grabbed Tam Lin by the hair. Words in the old tongue were spoken, and in the next instant they were in the dungeons of Bethmora. Pen was shoved at another guard, while the struggling boy was hauled toward the stairs. The guard caught her and shoved her into a cell, slamming the heavy wooden door behind her.

She stumbled into the cell, nearly hitting the wall. Her fingers scrapped against the stone as she got to her footing. Two dim torches lit the cell, from what she could see, it was obviously a place where they interrogated prisoners. She turned as the cell door opened, one of the guards had a collar that would just fit around her throat. Just enough pressure on her vocal cords and she'd be rendered silent. She struggled, but having fought for hours with little food or rest it was a futile effort. The collar was fastened around her throat and locked with an iron lock. The guard left her to sink to the floor, silent tears rolling down her face.

The steward grinned when he came into her cell hours later, bringing food that would have made a maggot gag. He set it before her, expecting her to eat.

"...come now, you must eat." He said. "You have a very special performance tomorrow...at the king's bequest. You're going to sing one of the old songs..."

She kicked out at him, contacting with his knee. Nuada hadn't been her only teacher in the enclave.

"Little bitch..." He took a swing at her. "You'll sing the execution song or your son dies..."

She knew it wasn't an empty threat, but there had to be a way. She could strike him again, getting the upper hand.

"...You will release her this instant..." Came a voice from the doorway. "The guild bastards want their property back..."

The steward turned, a man in charcoal gray robes stood in the doorway. The emblem of the guild stitched in gold thread upon the fabric. He strode forward and with a key opened the lock and removed the collar.

"...are you OK, little sister..."

she took a full breath and nodded, not quite able to speak yet.

"Stand aside," the man said, lifting Pen to her feet. "I and this singer are leaving."

The steward growled but limped to the side.

"Your son is safe, two of my personal assistants are with him." The man said.

She nodded as she was led out. The world turned to a blur and then went black.

A day later...

Pen woke groaning, every muscle in her body hurt. She sat up, looking around her surroundings. The room was decently appointed, with doors leading off to various places.

"So the little sleeper awakens..."

She turned her head, the same man from the dungeons was there. She backed away slightly.

"I'm sorry little one, I should have introduced myself." He said. "I am Prince Lochain, head of your guild..."

Her mouth hung open, he gently reached out to close it. He looked a lot like Nuada, save he did not have the scar across his face and his eyes were a brilliant blue. She'd heard so many stories about the guild head she did not quite believe he would come for her.

"Why did you come for me...I thought..." She stammered. "Is it because I'm valuable..."

"Valuable, yes..." Lochain said. "...but also important." He handed her a robe and turned to allow her to put it on. "...put it on and follow me."

She got out of bed and slid on the robe, only taking note that she'd been dressed in a silken nightdress.

She followed the guild head through corridors and upstairs until he paused, listened and then opened the door. The room was brightly lit, tapestries and rugs were everywhere. Upon a bed in the center of the room lay a pale figure, still as death.

"Go to him, little sister..." Lochain said. "We affected his release shortly after yours..."

She rushed in, taking up Nuada's hand. He didn't stir not even to the touch of her thoughts. The bruises stood out upon his pale skin, some were already a dark copper.

"There is a broken blade in him, we have not yet attempted to remove it." Lochain said. "...I thought it best you be at his side before we did so."

She brought Nuada's hand to her face. "I am here my beloved..."

There was a slight stirring, a murmur of pain and then nothing again.

"...He has been heavily drugged, or else I think he'd been screaming." Lochain said softly. "The blade burrows deeper with each breath." He paused. "...It has already done a great deal of damage..."

She placed her hand over Nuada's heart, she felt the slow beat beneath her fingers.

"Come back to me..." She whispered softly.

Lochain frowned, the bond was strong between them. Though his death would not cause hers, it would leave her a shell.

"We will prepare for the blade's removal...Sing for him."

she closed her eyes and began singing, the tune was wordless and old. It struck the guild head as tragic one love given for another.

Pen's throat was raw by the time the blade had been "sung" from Nuada's body. Even the assistance of two other Singers, the task left her drained. She wouldn't be able to speak for days, straining her voice to near breaking. Lochain brought her a soothing tea and advised rest. Once tucked into a nest of quilts, pillows and throw blankets the guild head sang her to sleep. He left with orders that if either of them woke before his return he was to be summoned immediately. He had a traitor to deal with.

Jaeren growled and tugged against his chains, he'd been arrested the moment he'd stepped into the guildhall. The charges had been the betrayal of the guild code and the selling of one of its members to the Courts without a proper contract. Lochain strode in, his face set into a look of reproach.

"...I'm surprised at you Jaeren, I give you the simple task of raising my heir and what do you do..."

"Forgive me Lochain..."

The guild head approached slowly.

"What you have done is quite beyond forgiveness." Lochain said. "Not only did you betray the guild, but you also betrayed your brother as well...most unforgivable..."

Jaeren looked sick, he had never thought his betrayal would be found out. He had played the kindly older "brother" to the hilt for the girl, thinking she'd be easy enough to deliver to the court.

"...The guild is a shadow, without teeth or substance..." Jaeren hissed. "All because..."

"Because of what...I made the choice to keep the guild out of court and mortal affairs." Lochain hissed. "How petty, have you learned nothing in these long centuries?"

Lochain slapped Jaeren across the face. The former Goblin prince growled at him.

"...We should have been at the Prince's side when he declared war..." Jaeren hissed. "The humans wouldn't have stood a chance..."

Lochain knew what Jaeren was talking about, the old songs. Once he'd taken over the guild, he'd banned the singing of them, songs of destruction, songs of execution.

"...I will not have my heir be used to make the guild great." Lochain hissed.

"She is of my blood too, or do you forget..."

"I do not forget, goblin..." Lochain said. "Nor can I forgive. You are hereby confined to the guildhall, if you step one foot out of it the guards have orders to kill you..."

With a second slap, Lochain turned and left the chamber.

The Guildhall guest chambers...

Pen stirred, she felt so warm and safe. She felt arms around her and words murmured in old Gaelic. She settled deeper into the warmth, feeling a solid chest behind her back. She turned over, nuzzling softly. A soft groan rumbled in her ears. Her hands came up to touch warm flesh covered by linen before she opened her eyes.

"You shouldn't be out of bed..." She whispered softly.

There was a soft chuckle and more words. She could pick out the words for "beloved" and "belong" the rest was to low for her to hear. She did not think he meant for her to hear them, but their tone spoke volumes about the man who spoke them.

"You need to rest." She whispered.

"Hush little human," He said. "I will rest soon..."

she put her arms carefully around him, touching the bandages. He made a soft sound, neither pain or surrender.

"You should have stayed in bed..."

He pulled her closer, whispering more words. These for a loss, wither for their unborn child or for his sister she could not tell. She reached up, touching his shoulder. The marks she'd made upon him were long faded, save for the one that now met her fingers. She leaned up, gently licking across the mark there. He let out a sigh, and his hand came to tangle in her hair.

"...I belong to you..." He whispered.

She snuggled in closer and drifted back into sleep.

When Lochain came upon them a little while later, he quietly knocked upon the door frame before coming in. Neither of them stirred at the sound, both too exhausted to respond. His fingers paused above Pen's head then pulled away. How much she looked like his lost love, a low growl made him back away. He gave a weary grin, even in sleep the fey lord was guarding his bond mate. He sighed as he left the room, there was one other to see to before the day was done.


	29. Execution song

Lochain frowned as he went to see Tam Lin. The boy was sleeping fitfully, his face flushed. He gently brushed the boy's dark hair away from his face. The boy turned away from his touch.

"Athair..." Tam Lin murmured.

To hear the child say that wrenched at his heart. He knew the Steward wouldn't have softened the blow about the boy. He brushed more strands away, warmth beneath his fingers told him the boy wasn't well.

"Athair...Please...No..."

"Shush, sleep little one..." Lochain said softly.

"Master Lochain..." A voice from the doorway.

He turned, one of the Guild members stood at the door. He moved away from the boy's bedside to hear what would have brought one of his to the room

"Lord Silverlance walked to the hearth under his own power, for her..."

He smiled, leave it to the stubborn Fey lord to have enough strength to go to his bond mate when most wouldn't have been able to move.

"...She is his bond mate, such ones are never far apart for long." He said. "Do not disturb them."

"As you wish, master Lochain..."

Lochain dismissed the man and turned to tend to Tam Lin.

The Guest chambers...

Pen stirred, snuggling closer to the warmth of her bond mate. She nuzzled his chest and received a soft sound of contentment. She stirred more into wakefulness to look up and observe Nuada's face in sleep, she reached up and touched the bridge of his nose.

"...Even after all these years, it still fascinates you..." He murmured, still half asleep. "The pain of it was momentary and now long past..."

She opened her mouth to say something but his fingers touched her lips.

"No, do not speak." He said softly. "spare your voice..."

She traced a pattern on his chest, and down his stomach. He took in a breath.

"Do not tease, little human, when I cannot enjoy it..."

Her fingers came up his sides, gentle, and then along his ribs. Her fingers sliding over the bandages.

"Enough." He said, catching her hands. "Enough..."

She looked up into his face and then leaned up to kiss the tip of his nose. He made a contented sound and began murmuring in Gaelic, she knew those words now, understanding them fully. She reached up her hand and placed her fingers on his lips.

"...I would have remained with you, even if you had taken a queen..." She whispered as she laid her head against his chest.

He kissed her fingertips and continued. He knew deep within if he'd taken a queen it would not have been her he summoned to his bed each night. He repeated those vows, now meaning every word of them. They both drifted back to sleep, curled tightly around each other.

Lochain left Tam Lin in the care of the guild's finest healers while he went to check on the boy's parents. He knew they would wish to know that the boy was ill, though the cause was still unknown. He knocked upon the door frame before entering, finding them curled together. Pen stirred and slowly extracted herself from Nuada's embrace, whispering she was not going far.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," He said. "But Tam Lin is ill, he woke with a fever this morning. I've left him with the healers, I thought you should be at his side when he wakes again."

She looked down at the robe she wore, she wasn't going much of anywhere dressed like this. The Guild's head held out a set of clothing, which she took and went to the screened water basin to wash up and change.

"You should tell your bond-mate where you are going." He said. "I do not wish him wandering the halls to find you..."

Pen emerged dressed and slightly damp from washing up. She made her quiet way over to Nuada and whispered something in his ear.

Lochain watched Nuada stir and give several protests before she informed him of their son. It seemed all the Fey lord's protests vanished at the mention of his child. He heard only one question...How long. He heard Pen answer and saw the fey lord try to get to his feet.

"No...you need to rest."

He watched they fey lord struggle for a moment before laying back among the blankets.

"I will ask master Lochain if Tam Lin can be brought to us..."

He nodded. "I will see if I can..."

He left them wondering if the boy's illness had anything to do with Finnas' hatred of Balor's line.

Nuada lay on his back, listening to Pen moving around. He knew she was worried, he was too. He thought of what he'd been told, the boy had been chosen to be his assassin. His mind was still trying to process that with the images of the past month. Tam Lin idolized him, sought them out when he could not sleep. The touch of her fingers upon his temple turned his head to her.

"...Those of Fey blood do not fall ill easily." He told her softly.

"I know that well enough," she said. "But our son is half human as well, we do not know what could make him ill."

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

"Your guild head said he would try to bring us our son..."

She nuzzled in, laying her head on his chest. His strong and steady heartbeat gave her hope.

"After Jaeren's betrayal, I do not know what to think."

"Your guild head will bring us our son." He said. "Of that, I have no doubt..."

She sighed and hoped it would be true.

Lochain's chambers...

The guild head rubbed between his brows, the dull ache was only beginning. He cursed Jaeren, the damned goblin prince had near ruined everything. He had intended to name the girl his successor shortly after her maiden year, but the pregnancy and the Prince's almost outright abandonment had complicated things. In the ensuing years, he had kept an eye upon her, waiting for her to return to the guildhall on her own. He had not known that Jaeren had manipulated her so badly that she had chosen to serve in one of the markets rather than in the guildhall.

"...She should have been given the choice a long time ago."

Lochain looked up to see Jareth in full regalia standing in the doorway.

"Come to plead your brother's case, Goblin King?"

"No, he dug his own grave a long time ago when he let one of Finnas' spies into my kingdom." Jareth's tone was sad. "The one person I never thought would betray me, he took her to Finnas' dungeons..."

"The most bitter betrayal is usually by one's own." Lochain said. "Come in, sit."

Jareth made his way to sit in a straight-backed chair across from the guild head.

"My own son..." Jareth said. "I've come to request the execution song..."

Lochain nodded, watching the Goblin King's face tense.

"...We will arrange it, if you have brought the prisoner."

Jareth nodded, "He returned begging my forgiveness...He has been in an oubliette since."

"Deliver him to us, we will return him..."

Jareth closed his mismatched eyes, Tears he'd refused to shed upon his son's initial betrayal now slowly rolled down his cheeks.

The next morning...

Lochain looked down at the prisoner, his face was dirty where his captors had thrown him against his prison walls, one eye was swollen shut and the raven armor hung off him in shreds. The guild head touched the prisoner's face. He had requested that just he and the prisoner be in the courtyard. All the doors and windows surrounding had been bolted shut, no one but he would witness this execution.

"...know sentience of betrayal has been passed upon you." Lochain said. "Know your ties grant you this mercy..."

The song began, and the first cries of pain began to echo through the courtyard.

Lochain escorted the tightly wrapped corpse to the reception hall, where Jareth and Sarah were waiting. He had his own prepare the corpse to spare the Goblin King one further heartache.

"...He died well." Lochain told Jareth. "You delivered me a traitor, I return your son..."

The litter was quietly covered with the colors of the Goblin Royal house as Jareth and his queen gave orders to leave. Four stout goblins carried the litter, the young prince would be buried befitting his station. He said nothing as the goblin guards surrounded the four bearers and the slow march began.

In the guest chambers...

Pen knew an execution had taken place, the mood servants was too somber for anything else. She had gotten Nuada back into bed, propping him up on pillows. She looked out the window, watching the procession of goblins file past in the courtyard below. The Royal banners passed, no doubt Jareth and Sara were beneath them. The slow beat of a drum signaled the bearers, the slow march step ringing against the walls.

"...I do not think we will be too welcome in Jareth's kingdom." She said, softly.

"The death of a prince is not taken lightly," Nuada said. "Though perhaps we should remain here for a time."

She turned to sit on the bed beside him, it was a good idea.

"...The guild will house me for as long as it can." She said. "You, however...once you are well...you will be returned to your exile..."

He raised his hand, touching her face.

"I go where my heart goes." He said softly. "We are bonded enough that my presence at your side would not be questioned."

"The patrons of the guild would say otherwise." She said. "They see me as a jewel to be won, courted and pampered. I would much rather live in the market and help those I can..."

"You would give up all you have..."

"What do I have in the human world, an apartment I barely live in...a business that can easily be taken over...my life was among the Sidhe, it always has been." She sighed. "We must ask Lochain, and our son must be well."

He nodded, she loved him with a fierce will that had not diminished in all the time they had been parted.

The healing rooms...

Tam Lin lay quite, his arms wrapped around his doll. For the first time in two days, the boy was sleeping peacefully. The healers had narrowed down the symptoms to the equivalent of a human cold. No doubt from the dungeon and the stress of his capture. They wanted to be sure it was not transmittable to either of his parents before being bundled up and delivered to their rooms. Lochain watched his heart heavy with the day's previous events.

"...He sleeps, and his fever went down." The head healer said softly. "...we have handled him carefully, encase his illness is transmittable to either human or Sidhe..."

"He has what humans call a cold, children get them regularly..." Lochain said. "And tend to infect a good portion of their surroundings."

"We shall take further precautions." The head healer said. "we do not need half the guild sick..."

Lochain let a sad smile grace his face, that was true enough. Illnesses tended to run rampant in confined communities.

The Castle beyond the Goblin city...a week later

Jareth paced back and forth, the mix of emotions playing upon his face. He'd buried his son a week ago, royal but nameless in the family tomb. He'd forbidden the young man's name to be spoken ever again. The High Council was up in arms that he had executed one of his own.

"...He betrayed our kingdom..." Hoggle said. "Youse had no choice..."

"Would that I truly believed that, Hoggle," Jareth said. "I should have known when he came with his armor."

"Youse couldn't have known that Rat Finnas..."

"I know the man who calls himself High King very well." Jareth said. "...I should have advised against naming Finnas heir if something happened to the Royal twins..."

"Balor couldn't have known that that rat would want his line ended."

"I will be going back to the guildhall, I need to know if the guild will shelter the Singer and her family if Finnas decides to declare war..."

"He'd be committing suicide... war with the Drow...not even Silverlance was that out of his mind."

"If he goes to war...he'll be doing the humans' work for them." Jareth said.

The ancient dwarf nodded, "I'll go talk to some of the light siders..."

The Goblin King nodded, wanting to inform the few clans of Drow who had no quarrel with their sidhe kin of the High King's intent.

The Guild hall, four days later...

Lochain welcomed Jareth to his audience chambers and bid him sit. The goblin King waved away the servant who poured them tea. Jareth was in no mood to find serenity in a tea cup.

"What brings you again to my doorstep." Lochain said, adding a bit of sugar and a lemon wedge into his cup.

"Finnas...He's planning to attack the Drow..."

Lochain nearly did a spit take, coughing on the mouthful he'd managed to swallow.

"...Not even the High Kings of old were that stupid." He said, looking at the goblin king. "And the council approves of this?"

"He's got enough of his cronies on the council to get the edict passed," Jareth said. "I still have connections at court, I was informed that was the reason Finnas wanted Pen..."

The guild head frowned, this was not welcomed news. He'd known another king who had done something equally foolish and destructive.

"I knew another so foolish, he cost the guild dear." Lochain said softly. "A very long time ago..."

Jareth wasn't going to pry, rumors said the guild head had banned the war songs because of what they had cost the guild.

"What shall we do about the High King?"

"Restore Silverlance to the throne or set Tam Lin upon it...either we will have a war..." Lochain said. "I would rather it be a war we can find an end to..."

"Are you sure you could stop Silverlance if he was restored..."

Lochain shook his head. "I don't even think Pen would be able to..."

Jareth frowned, he knew the young Singer had been chosen to be Silverlance's executioner if no middle ground could be found.

"Will you tell Pen of these developments?"

The guild head shook his head. "She should not have to make the choice between her loyalty and her heart..."

Jareth agreed, too long had humans forgotten and perhaps this war would remind them that they didn't just destroy themselves.


	30. lightening strike

The Guildhall guest chambers...

Nuada starred up at the beams above, light and shadow from the tree outside the window making patterns upon them. Pen was curled into his unwounded side, sleeping soundly. He wished he could enjoy her ease of sleep, but too much rolled through his mind. He would have risen and sought a place away from her to sort out his thoughts but rising would be a painful and exhausting task alone.

They had been in the guildhall for nearly a week, during that time he quickly learned he had some of his sight back but not as sharp as it had been. He also learned of Finnas' plans to make war upon the Drow. Not even in the depths of his hatred had he been that...stupid. True most drow ranked slightly below humans on his list of "exterminate" but they outnumbered any army he could have raised against them. They bred in their tunnels for millennial, most sidhe would be at a disadvantage and the trolls, dwarves and ogres were not eager to be rid of their trading partners.

He looked down at the one human who he would defend with his last breath, he could see the tension in her face. Finnas' war was going to make her choices painful, wither he was restored to his throne or Tam Lin assented. She would only be able to acknowledge either of them behind closed doors, if at all. He would be expected to take a Sidhe bride, his people would demand no less. He felt her stir.

"I will remain, wither as lover or in secret..." She whispered softly, looking up at him with half lidded eyes.

His thoughts must have awakened her, as hers would if he'd been sleeping.

"I know, little human." He said softly. "Go back to sleep, my thoughts should not trouble you anymore tonight..."

They could shield their thoughts from each other, something he'd forgotten to do.

"Follow me into slumber..."

He closed his eyes, "Shortly..."

She closed her eyes and in moments was asleep again.

He turned his attention to the beams, his head still too full to keep his promise of following her to sleep. He felt her reach in through their bond, a gentle caress upon his thoughts. He surrendered to that touch, letting it soothe his doubts.

Sleep beloved, she whispered through their bond, let the worries of what will be rest...

He pulled her closer, gently stroking her hair, as the pull of sleep became stronger and finally won out.

Dawn filtered through the window when he woke again and her side of the bed was empty. He focused his hearing, she wasn't in the suite. He reached out through their bond, the answer was near immediate.

I'm bringing breakfast...and perhaps a good morning...

He sent a tendril of pleasure along their bond, almost like a cat's purr.

Her soft laughter was his reward.

He watched Pen enter with a tray, balanced upon her hands. It was filled with Fey and human food. Some he recognized, including a most delightful dessert bread. She set the tray down on the nightstand, then leaned forward to capture his lips. Her fingers were trailing down his chest in the next instant, pausing before coming back up to trace his jaw. He knew she wouldn't be able to give him a proper "Good morning" until he healed, but just her touch upon his skin was enough to make up for it.

"...what did you bring for breakfast?" He said in a teasing tone.

She laughed softly against his lips and reached to hand him the warm mug.

"...Almost every dish the kitchen offers. They said something about you being too skinny." She said. "Then again, all the matrons that run the kitchen are grandmothers..."

"I would expect no less, and you seem to be their favored if they gave you a bit of everything." He said softly, then took a sip. "...warm, rich...familiar."

She smiled. "I requested Goblin chocolate...fresh from the market this morning."

He could almost tell which of the candy makers had blended it. He felt its warmth flow through his body, easing the ache in his side.

"I knew you would enjoy some." She said. "You would have been bouncing off the walls with the stuff I drink..."

He eyed the second mug, watching her take a sip before making a sour face. "Too sweet..."

"Is that desert bread I smell?" he said, pairing to see what exactly was on the tray.

She nodded. "Chocolate, with fresh butter..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Someone must want me drugged..."

She snickered softly. "I forgot what it does to Sidhe...and perhaps I could have my wicked way with you..."

He took another sip. "Wicked Human..."

she leaned in and kissed him again, soft, lingering.

A short time later...

Lochain knocked upon the door frame before he walked in. He raised an eyebrow at the two of them, they were still abed. Nuada looked mildly intoxicated as Pen fed him tidbits off the tray on the nightstand. The scent of rich chocolate told him why the fey lord had a glazed look in his eyes, he was drugged.

"...Hem..." Lochain cleared his throat.

Pen turned and fed Nuada the last bit of muffin. She gave him one last kiss with the admonishment to go to sleep. Lochain found it amusing, but knowing the recent developments it was probably for the best that the fey lord slept.

"...Dirty trick..." Nuada slurred as his eyelids closed and he drifted to sleep.

"He's not slept..." She said as she kissed Nuada's forehead.

"I see. I came to inform you of the guild's decision..."

She licked her lips nervously.

"...You are not the first singer to come to the council and ask for bonding." Lochain said softly. "nor will you be the last. The council's answer was yes, but with a few reservations..."

She had known there would be some doubt when she'd asked two days ago.

"What are they?"

"you are to carry no title, save for guild rank." He said.

"That is to be expected, I told him of that restriction months ago."

"...you are also to step down from your position as consort if a Sidhe bride is chosen."

She closed her eyes, how could the council ask that of her.

"I would have let you bond without them, but the council does not trust that he will honor his vows once ascended to the throne."

"So you mean to place him on it." She said. "It will mean another war..."

"I know." He said. "there is no choice...we have chosen the holocaust we will enact. I am sorry, it was an unavoidable choice."

"There is no guarantee that I will be spared in his wrath is there?"

Lochain shook his head. "No, there is not."

"How long?"

"We are planning and gathering Allis." He said. "We already have those of the underground, including the goblins."

She looked up into Lochain's deep blue eyes and saw a man conflicted.

"...You made this choice once before."

"Yes, I did." He said. "Then all I had to worry about was my guild and what it would mean for them. Now I join to save a race that is fading. One last chance for us..."

"Where does that leave me, Guild Master?" She said. "Am I not of the same race which you seek to destroy."

Lochain paused, reminded that she was human. For all her mannerisms, words and actions, she was human.

"...I truly do believe the treaties have outlived their writ." She continued. "that a new way must be found, but not at the cost of those who are ignorant of what they anger."

"I know, war is never an answer to such a problem. It is a failure, and we have failed." He said softly. "Failed to remember, failed to teach and keep the lessons alive..." He shook his head. "It is now too late to begin..."

she closed her eyes tightly, what cost would be asked of her.

"...Make your arrangements." Lochain said softly. "I will join you two as one heart when you are ready."

She nodded, to plant that one seed of hope was all she could do.

Several weeks later...

Nuada was able to move about, but favored his side as a precaution. He looked around the map strewn table, leaders of all their allied armies sat around talking of how best to stop Finnas. He itched for action, a reason to take the High King's heart. He knew Pen was off making her own preparations for their bonding. He looked at the maps, each marked where the drow kept their tunnels. He looked at the leaders around the table again, each proposing a different solution.

"You seem distracted Lord Nuada."

He looked up to see the speaker, one of the dwarf nation.

"I have much on my mind..." He said. "If any of you have a solution...I'm willing to listen."

"We have talked of attacking directly." One of the Goblin commanders said. "It will be the cleanest, but with heavy losses..."

Nuada looked over the maps again, seeing the perfect place.

"Here..." He said pointing to a mountainous region. "We attack here, closing off the pass into a gauntlet. We will only need archers and a few mounted soldiers..."

"But Lord Nuada...that's close to..."

"I know, it cannot be helped." He said. "Either they get out of our way or perish..."

The region he'd pointed to held the enclave where he had met Pen long ago.

Elsewhere in the Guildhall...

Pen looked at the veil she'd so lovingly embroidered near twelve years ago. She had not known then that the stag lord she'd loved was to have been bonded to her. One of the motifs was half completed, a spot of red in a sea of white gauze. She touched it as she brought out an embroidery hoop and fastened the fabric into it. She'd complete the veil and wear it upon the day of her bonding, the stitches were still delicate.

"...preparations going well?" Came Nuada's voice.

She turned, watching him come toward her, hand pressed to his side.

"Yes." She said, setting down her embroidery. "I take your preparations ate going well as well."

He closed his eyes, there were times they grew tired.

"We have chosen a place to attack, to end this before it gets out of hand." He said softly. "I will be gone no more than a month, then we shall take our bonding."

She smiled, reaching up to brush a strand from his beautiful features.

"There is something I wish you to do for me..." He said, reaching into a pouch at his waist. "...Braid my hair."

He set the bone rings into her hand, he had not worn them since his imprisonment. She nodded.

"Sit down..."

He did as she bid and closed his eyes again as he felt the gentle tug upon his scalp.

Two weeks later...

Nuada adjusted his armor, making sure it fit closely to his body. It felt like an old friend as he tightened the laces across his chest. He looked down at the sash, it felt good to be wearing the royal seal again. He would look in on Pen and Tam Lin one last time before he departed. He made the final adjustments and headed to seek out Pen.

He found her with Tam Lin, going through the scales. The boy's untrained voice struggled to keep up. She paused, indicating to Tam Lin that it was enough.

"Athair..." the boy said, running to collide with Nuada.

"Little Raven..." He said softly. "I see you and your mother are practicing..."

"Yes, We were." Pen said. "you leave in an hour."

Nuada nodded as she came close to lean up against him.

"I will come back to you, wither with Finnas' head or upon a litter..."

"Do not talk of that." She said. "Just come back..."

He kissed the top of her head.

"...I promise." He said.

She reached up and touched the braid behind his right ear, The tight plait weighted by the bone ring, and hidden in his hair.

"Athair..." Tam Lin said. "Will I be a prince..."

Nuada chuckled softly. "Of course, you shall sit at my side."

"What of Mathair...will she be queen?"

It was Pen's turn to find humor in his question.

"I will be his consort, I cannot be queen..." She said softly. "I cannot be both singer and queen.."

They all fell silent after that, just standing and holding each other.

Four days later...

Pen continued to train Tam Lin, letting the boy learn what keys he could sing in without cracking his voice. Doing this kept her mind off Nuada and what he was doing. She would stand upon the parapet above the gates, watching; waiting. Lochain had gone with him, leaving orders that no one was to enter or leave. She knew they'd both be different when they returned, war changed those who fought it.

"...Lady Pen."

She looked up, one of Lochain's assistants stood at the end of the walkway.

"Yes."

"A message arrived..."

She nodded. "I will receive it here."

the parchment was crisp, and the wax that sealed it scented lightly of juniper oil. Each must have come from the supply Lochain had taken. Nuada's flowing elvish script met her gaze as she broke the seal.

My beloved,

We have camped for the night and Lochain has graciously allowed me to use his supply of parchment and Ink to correspond with you. We are two days out from the guildhall and I think of you almost every hour. Would that I could be by your side watching our son learn, but I must be here fighting for the good of other Sidhe. I pray to the gods we will have this task done quickly so that I may return and we may be bonded. I must go, sleep beckons and dawn will come much too early.

With all my love,

your heart...

She folded it carefully, tucking it against her heart. It was a love letter, but she knew there soon would be no love in Nuada. The darkness had not yet awakened, but it would with the first blood of battle and the man she knew would be gone. She would not weep, it was the lot she had been given, and then kept of her own choice.

She would write back, hoping her words of love would reach him before they reached the battleground. Her fingers trembled as she saw in the distance riders, draped in black; the royal banner of Bethmora riding ahead of a corpse in red and black armor. She fell to her knees, shaking her head.

"No, please Gods no..." She said, the tears falling down her cheeks..

When she looked again the image was gone. She had not the gift for visions, but time and again things would be "shown" to her.

She knew it was a possible future, no more. It was a warning, death would hang heavy upon Bethmora. She had no illusions that the skills she'd honed over the last ten years would be called upon in most dire circumstances. She made her way down from the walk, hoping what she saw was only a warning and not a truth.


	31. A Grand illusion

Camp miles distant from the guildhall...

Nuad set down the quill in his hand looked up at Lochain. The Guild's head seemed distracted, or perhaps worried.

"We will meet with Finnas' forces soon, I'm almost finished with this one last letter," Nuada said.

"It is good you write to her, your letters will be cherished even if you do not return." Lochain said. "Even she knows that is a real possibility."

Nuada looked down at the words upon the parchment and then at the Guild's head.

"I promised I would return, and I shall." He said. "My heart is with her..."

"M'lords..." Came a voice outside. "A messenger has arrived..."

Both went out to meet the messenger.

The boy could not have been more than ten, reminding Nuada that it could easily have been Tam Lin. The scroll tube was held out in trembling hands, the boy must have thought them ready to kill the messenger for spite of the message. Lochain opened the tube and pulled out the parchment.

"It appears Finnas wants some kind of truce." Lochain said. "It says this was also delivered to the Head of the drow forces."

Nuada growled and snatched the parchment.

"You can tell that low born, scum crawling excuse for a living being..."

"Silverlance..." Lochain warned. "Look at your hands..."

He looked down, smears of red and caramel covered his hands.

"The blood of all our nations are upon you..." The messenger said. "The blood of all your kin..."

His head swam as a sharp pain from behind doubled him over. He turned to see himself standing at the "safe" end of the silver lance. He fell to his knees, tasting blood in his mouth.

Nuada woke screaming, another nightmare. He knew Finnas would offer no treaty to him or to the drow. He licked his lips, tasting blood. He'd bitten his lip, he licked it and got out of bed. They were miles distant from the Guildhall, that much he could be sure of. He had not written Pen in a few days. He knew he should, to tell her he was thinking of her. He knew that once the "other" woke...the carnage would tear his soul apart once more. Now though, there was no Wink to help him pull the pieces back together. Only her, and the wall she'd erected between him and the madness.

He pulled on a pair of silk pants and headed out of the tent to let the night air-dry his skin. He could feel it, his "other" pricking at the strands of the shield he'd woven around the "hole" in his heart since Pen had returned to his life. He had forgotten her once, the memories sundered because of his hate.

"...Another nightmare, Lord Nuada?"

He turned to see Lochain with a mug of something that smelled vaguely of lavender and Camille.

"Yes," he said. "It was of Finnas offering a treaty, and there was blood upon my hands..."

Lochain nodded. "I would like to strangle every single one of Finnas' dream walkers...you are not the only one..."

"Of that, I've become actuality aware." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "We know how much of a bastard he is."

"I do not think he has counted on the strength of Pen's will tied to yours." Lochain said, "Or that you would find an ally with me."

The nightmare still clung, and he wished to know something.

"What was Pen trained to do, Lochain, I know Singers do not carry weapons or fight like demons."

The Guild Head went silent, Pen's training had been sort of an open secret.

"She is a precaution, a last resort." Lochain said. "One I hope we will never have to use."

He knew that wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was the one he was going to get on that particular subject.

"...Does she know this?"

Lochain knew he'd find out, and hoped it would not affect how he viewed Pen.

"Yes, she knows," The Guild Head said much too softly. "She will do what is asked, but it will break her, heart and spirit."

He looked down at his hands, all that he'd touched or destroyed. "Killing should never be an easy thing, I fear it has become an all too easy thing for me."

Lochain handed him the mug, he'd brought it for him anticipating another nightmare.

"...It will help you sleep, no more nightmares." Lochain said. "I used to give it to my children when they could not sleep."

Nuada graciously took the cup and sipped, it was sweet as honey with an earthy flavor.

"...Then I hope I sleep as well as a child." He laughed and continued to drink.

It was only a few moments before he was finished.

"No doubt you will..." Lochain said as the cup slid out of Nuada's slack hand. "And with any hope, this war will be over before you wake..."

Lochain caught Nuada and dragged him back into the tent. He arranged Nuada on his cot, covering him with a blanket.

The task of getting Nuada out of the way done, Lochain looked around the tent. Nuada's armor was within easy reach. He knew he looked enough like Nuada to slip past the guards, in the dead of night no one was going to notice his eyes. He shed his clothes and exchanged them for Nuada's. He was going to slip into Finnas' camp. With any luck, they would attribute the High King's death to Nuada and he could return to being the head of his guild. He would wait for moonset and complete another task.

A short time later...

Lochain slid past the guards, convincing them that Nuada had slipped out of camp. He the grim look upon his face, he'd make sure this war ended quickly for the one to place Nuada upon the throne would not. He made his way across the countryside, thinking on his decision to have Pen trained in the old ways of the Guild. He'd used the excuse that she was the rarest of them and would have to protect herself if someone took out her guards.

Oh yes, once upon a time the Singers had been armed, and well so. He'd ended the practice of arming and training Guild members shortly after ascending to the Head of the Guild but not before completing his own training. One of the Guild's specialties had been an assassination. This night, he intended to resurrect that specialty for however briefly.

The Guild Hall...

Pen moved slowly through the Kata, her mind clear of all but the pattern. She'd woken from a dream of blood and carnage but could find no solace in returning to sleep. Taking up the blades hadn't been the only option, but she did not wish to have the nightmare again. Her fingers griped the hilts, something about the dream disturbed her, something not right about it. It had ended with Nuada pinned to the ground by his lance, his own weapon turned against him.

"...Mathair..." Came a sleepy voice.

She paused, watching Tam Lin come in.

His hair was sleep tousled and his stuffed doll clutched in his arms, a blanket trailed behind him. He may have been chronologically a ten year old, but he had some of the elvish mental and physical development and so appeared much younger than his age.

"Come here, Little Raven." She said, putting her swords aside upon the stone floor. "Why are you not in your room?"

He looked at her, his sleepy eyes held terror from some dream.

"had a bad dream...Athair hurt...couldn't sleep..."

She looked at her son, he was still half asleep. It appeared he too had a similar dream.

"Come, Little Raven, I'll get you tucked in bed...you can sleep here tonight."

Tam Lin made a noise that could have been an agreement if he wasn't near falling asleep in front of her.

She tucked her son in, gently stroking his hair. She sang a lullaby, soft and clear to carry a little elfling into sleep. Once she was finished, she picked up her blades and began again. Her son's words seemed to echo the dream. Nuada had fallen under his own spear, bleeding his life out upon the blood-soaked mud while Finnas thrust down another spear to end his life. She shook her head to clear it of the image. She let the rhythm of the blades take her mind again.

Just outside Finnas' camp...

Lochain watched from the shadows as the guards patrolled. He would wait for the guard change and slip into the camp. Finnas would be easy to find, too prideful not to lead his own army against the Drow. He knew the High King had body doubles, all good leaders employed them. He still remembered enough of court protocol to know where the real king had been hidden. The Guard changed, he sprinted across the ground and into another patch of shadow.

The tent looked threadbare, but he knew different, within would be fit for a king. He made sure he was seen entering the tent, he had to ensure Nuada was given credit for taking out Finnas. The High King's face had a look of surprise when he entered. No doubt he had not expected his most bitter enemy standing before him.

"...Silverlance." Finnas stammered, stunned.

He just gave him one of Nuada's cocky grins and advanced. Finnas quickly recovered drawing his blade, the High King was not going to go down easy.

He coughed blood into his pale hand. Finnas was dead, but he had not escaped unscathed. He checked the pouch at his waist, Finnas' dead eyes stared up at him. He'd show it to the allies and plans to place Nuada on the throne would begin. He wiped the crimson liquid on the silk of his pants, he had only a short distance left to go. He coughed again, the pain was sharper. Several of his ribs had been broken, a parting "Gift" from the late King. He steadied himself and willed his battered body to carry him back into camp. The Illusion would end there...

Several hours later, Nuada's tent...

Nuada groaned, his mouth tasting like it was stuffed with cotton. The last thing he remembered was Lochain bringing him something to drink. He heard a commotion outside the tent and reached for his armor, only to find the Guild head's garb strewn about. A set of his clothing was missing as well. Fearing the worst, he stumbled to his pack and pulled out a clean tunic.

Two healers rushed by him as he stepped out of the tent, he followed them. They had yet to engage in battle so there were no casualties that would require two healers. They disappeared into Lochain's tent. This set his feet into a near run, something had happened while he'd been out cold. The Guild's head was a canny bastard, he knew this from many years ago, but seeing the healers made his blood run cold.

He reached the tent as one of the healers had pried the ruined armor from Lochain's battered body. One of the healers looked up for a moment before cutting away the silk stuck to the guild head's body.

"...What manner of treachery caused this?" He said ready to personally take care of the perpetrator.

"Prince Lochain came in such this morning, carrying that..." One of the healers said pointing to the severed head standing on the end of a lance.

He saw Finnas' head, neatly severed. Had the guild head done this?

"Tell me if he improves..."

"As you wish Lord Nuada..."

He left the tent but would remain close.

It was a little while later that he heard some of the healer's talking, something about what they said focused his ears upon their conversation.

"It seems the guild's old ways were too strong a call even to its head..."

He wondered what they meant by the old ways of the Guild. He'd only known singers as healers and entertainers.

"What do you mean, the old ways..." The other healer said.

"Didn't you know, the Singer's Guild were the best assassins gold could buy before Prince Lochain took over..."

Assassins...The Singer's guild. His mind reeled.

Then it hit him like the spiked end of a war hammer to his chest. Something Lochain had said.

"She will do what is asked, but it will break her heart and spirit..."

Pen...She is...Oh, gods...

The woman he loved was his assassin, set in place and awaiting orders. Who had put her at his side, who would have been that cold? He turned from the tent, as rage built up freezing the bond between him and Pen.

The guildhall...

Pen felt the chill of it, Nuada's cold rage. It hit her mid-movement, the blades clattering to the floor. She tried to reach him but met a wall of ice and the darkness standing before it.

"He knows..." She whispered as she felt the darkness approach her. "Oh gods, he knows..."

She fell to her knees weeping as she felt him cut her off from even the darkness she had felt a moment ago.

She summoned one of her fellow Singers, closing her eyes she gave orders to have Tam Lin hidden deep within the Guildhall. She would not run if he came to confront her, but their son should not suffer for the anger sparked between them.

"...and if you fail to make him see it as a precaution, a fail-safe." Said Lochain's advisor.

"Then I fall here..." She said. "I've made arrangements for Nuada to take Tam Lin if I fall, honor them."

"As you wish, but the preparations Lochain made..."

"I know of them, and I will enact them when the time is right," she said.

The advisor nodded, turning to carry out her wishes.


	32. shattered

The encampment...

Nuada calmly packed his belongings, even the rage he felt could not hurry his movements. How he wished Wink was there to at least beat some civility into him because it was becoming all-consuming. He fastened the last ties upon his pack with a yank. He'd take the nearest horse and head back to the guildhall with all due speed. Some part whispered for mercy, but there would be none by the time he reached the guildhall.

Several days later...

Nuada rode up to the gates of the guildhall, banging upon them to be given entrance. The guard upon the rampart shouted down to allow him passage. They must have anticipated why he had come because one of Lochain's assistants met him just inside the gate.

"...Where is the Singer Pen..." He demanded.

"She is waiting for you, Lord Nuada..." The man said.

"Where..."

"...In the..."

The anguished wail of a child reached his ears.

"Mathair...!"

He shoved past the man and into the corridors.

He found her, laid out upon a table. She was dressed in her wedding gown and veil, her hands folded across her chest, her blade's sheath resting beneath them. Another table was set as if for a private toast, the cause of her condition apparent. The Goblet stank of poison as did the wine in the bottle. A note written in her hand lay beneath the goblet, waiting for him. He reached to touch her, her skin felt cold, near as cold as the rage he'd felt some days ago.

He looked to see Tam Lin being restrained by two other Singers as a warm tendril of their bond brushed against the ice wall. It gently caressed, drawing his attention, but it was so faint.

Forgive me, my beloved...

It was gone, his rage melted into grief.

No, He smashed his fists against the ice wall, You promised not to let me...

The wall shattered.

The careful wall she had erected between him and the Soul crushing grief of his sister's loss and the madness that had consumed him for over four thousand years shattered and he shattered with it. His scream of agony was heard some echoing through the halls for some time before others came and pulled the grief-stricken prince from her side.

Two days later...

Pen rolled over groaning, heaving into a bucket. She rose, vowing never to pull a stunt like that again. She'd near killed herself, her head still swam from the drugs She regretted not having told Tam Lin it was all an illusion, the little boy had been hysterical when two singers pulled Nuada away from her "corpse". She had heard little after that, save the encouragement to take the antidotes.

Lochain and the army had shown up the night after. Now the Guild's head was sitting at a table in her room, not very happy.

"...Whatever gave you the idea to twist my preparations like that." He growled. "You could have actually killed..."

She looked at Lochain, bandaged up but steady upon his feet. She squinted at the candle he'd lit.

"It was my choice to enact them as I saw fit..." She said. "I never want to be used like that again..."

Lochain had planned this out from the time Nuada had been brought to the Guild Hall. He had also been planning something else as well.

"You will not be." Lochain said. "What Weirgeld to you ask...Guild mistress.."

Her elevation had been a long time coming, now it seemed like a sour reward for what she had done.

She closed her eyes, "Another child of his seed."

Lochain had suspected this was what she would ask

"It shall be arranged. Will you remain here?"

She looked at her hands and shook her head.

"No, I will go to Jareth's castle to finish my contract, then do as I planned. I will take up residence in the Dublin Market...to be close to court."

The Guild Head nodded, "...With time, he will forgive you."

"When he does, the stars will have fallen into the sea..." She said, pouring herself a goblet of water to rinse the taste of the antidote out of her mouth. "...And I will have become a crone..."

Lochain shook his head.

Two weeks later...

Pen closed her eyes, Lochain had arranged her payment. An act that should have brought joy, only carved another path across her already scared heart. The drugs had made Nuada playable, eager even. She found no joy in coupling with him, not looking into eyes dulled by drugs and spells. Her heart ached each time, hearing beneath his cries the accusation of betrayal. Conception came quickly, setting in motion her other preparations.

The Goblin Kingdom...

Jareth watched Pen roam the halls and the hedge maze, a gray wraith for all she showed her face or spoke outside of her concerts. If she was here because Nuada was recovering here or for reasons of her own, he did not know. She seemed pulled in on herself, waiting. He vanished the crystal, saddened he could do nothing to balance the scales.

The now restored Prince looked out on the hedge maze, watching a gray dot move among the neatly trimmed boxwood. He'd done this day after day, waiting for the council to restore him to the throne or name him regent for his young son. He remembered her, her body pressed to his. He remembered the kiss upon his temple, knowing it for what it was, a farewell. He had believed her dead, until those moments. Her actions had done little save sharpen his hatred of humans.

He watched the dot turn, looking up to where he stood. For a moment he could swear he felt a sense of sadness, all-consuming as the darkness had been. The dot turned to continue on, the pace faster than it had been. He knew with a certainty that if they met again one of them would possibly die.

He watched the next day, the gray dot did not appear in the maze, had she fled after she saw him watching her. He was never sure, as Jareth came with the news he had been restored to the throne of Bethmora. The plans to begin to take shape.

A month later, in a suite of rooms in the residential section in the Dublin Troll market...

Pen touched the gauze of her bridal veil, an item she was sure she would never wear again. She buried it deep in the chest at the foot of her new bed, her grays and blades joined it. Her new guards would be escorting her from now on. She had moved to the market in the days following the end of her contract. The newly furnished rooms were worth the gold she'd paid to secure them She closed the chest and looked at the deep blues of her new guild status, wishing she could burn them for all they had cost her.

The royal palace, Bethmora...

Nuada looked over the plans for his conquest and coronation. He had thought little of the month spent in the goblin king's castle. He had all but forgotten of the Gray dot that had wandered the hedge maze, he had simply refused to think of her. Her betrayal had cut deep, even if another had set it in motion. He could not escape her memory though, their son looked at him with those same eyes. That one feature made looking at his son all the more painful because the boy kept asking where she was. He could not answer him without betraying the hurt he felt and so did not answer him.

He was discussing the coronation banquet with his chamberlain, a task he had postponed a meeting with his general's for.

"...Your majesty, there is the matter of the menu..."

He looked at the menu, approving of all the foods; save one. That one he never wished to taste again, it had been among the foods he'd shared with her on that far gone Beltain day.

"Sire, are you sure you do not wish dipped strawberries..."

"I am sure." He said. "What of the entertainment..."

"We were going to invite...the singers..."

The next instant the Chamberlain found himself in a heap across the room.

"They are banned from my court..." He hissed. "let them weave their webs among the lesser..."

The chamberlain nodded, getting to his feet.

Two months later...

The news of the coronation spread throughout the market, as servants in Nuada's livery came to purchase various things for the coronation feast. Pen did her best to avoid being seen as she moved among the stalls, her guards keeping a close watch. She was buying foodstuffs for her evening meal when she heard the commotion.

"Make way...make way..." Came a herald's voice.

She watched with the others as a small precession cam through, flying the Royal banner.

She saw him, astride a horse so black it would have been carved out of the night itself. She let out a soft sigh. She paid the vendor after the processional passed, moving on to the next. She was thankful for her guard when two urchins ran past her. She shook her head when the guard restrained them.

"Would not have been better if you had asked for coin..." She told the larger one.

Her guards tightened their grip upon the squirming children. She reached into her pouch and gave two sovereigns to the boys.

"Be off with you, and be thankful that it is a time of celebration..." She said, signaling the guards to let them go.

Both boys made off, running among the stalls. It was the third time the boys had tried to take her purse.

She was to move off to the next stall for the sweets that would end her meal when two of the Royal guard parted the crowd. Nuada was afoot and the guard kept close to him. She moved out of the way with the rest, catching a whiff of fallen leaves and spice.

"...Hansom is he not guild mistress." Said the vendor. "He'll have every princess from here to Caledonia begging to be his bride."

"...Yes, I'm sure he'll find a fine wife." She said, her tone formal. "Do you have any of those sweet cakes, the ones with clover honey..."

"did yesterday, the Royal house cleaned me out." He said. "We'll have some tomorrow..."

"Thank you, I'll return then," she said.

She made her way back toward her lodgings, having to do without what she had been craving.

She unlocked the door, setting down her carry basket. She closed the door, latching it before shedding her cloak. She looked down at what it had concealed. She was just starting to feel all the changes of her body. She had made no secret of her condition, for that would have raised curiosity beyond what she could easily dismiss.

"We're home little one..." She whispered softly, stroking her belly. "Let us prepare dinner..."

various foodstuffs found their way into her kitchen the others went into the cold box to keep for the next day. A knock at the door made her pause.

"Yes..."

"Royal order, open up..." Came a shouted voice.

She frowned, she had not expected anyone. She opened the door. Two of the guard near shoved her aside and began searching her rooms.

"What is the meaning of this..." She snapped.

"His royal highness, Prince Nuada, Silverlance..." a herald said.

He strode in, looking about the room before focusing upon her. That gaze was not a kind one.

"What is his majesty's desire, I was preparing my evening meal..."

"For just yourself, guild mistress?"

"Yes, your majesty." She said, keeping her tone low. "For myself..."

The next thing she knew she was pressed against the wall, Nuada's hand pressed against her belly. His eyes flashed the color of oranges before he spoke.

"I would weight what you say next carefully," he said. "If you have a care for the abomination you carry." He leaned in close. "...Was there another."

Was it possible he was jealous or ensuring that no one knew of the child she now carried? His hand felt warm, but not the kind of welcoming warmth.

"No,." She said, she felt him press harder. "There has been no one..."

He turned his hand into a claw and squeezed hard, before backing from her. She fell to her knees, curled up around her belly.

"Put the collar on her, I will be waiting..."

A tight band soon encircled her throat, near cutting off her airway.

She was dizzy and feeling none too well when she was slung across Nuada's saddle. Her bouts of sickness had been few and far between, but the scent of horse and leather made her want to vomit. She had nearly done so over Nuada's boots as he roughly pulled her off his horse and shoved her into the hands of his chief warden.

"...Put her in the darkest cell, " He hissed. "I will deal with her at my leisure."

The warden nodded as he dragged her down corridors and rough stone steps.

Three months later...

Pen could barely eat, what little food she could keep down was the least foul of what she was given. She would have vomited it all but her body needed food to keep her child alive. That first night she had prayed that Nuada had done nothing to hurt the small life within her. She had been grateful when she had not miscarried.

She was near six months along, and rumors that the war had begun reached her. Her heart broke. She made attempts now and again to reach across the link, but only met a void or a wall of ice. He had not come since he'd shoved her at the chief warden. She was beginning to think she would never see him again wither or not he came. She pulled the threadbare blanket closer around her and tried to sleep.

When the news of a Royal wedding came close on the heels of the declaration of war, she shed silent tears. She began to rock herself, curling around her growing belly. Even her warders could not help but notice. A midwife was summoned, and she confirmed what the warders suspected.

I will always remain...wither as memory or love... She sent along the near deteriorated bond shortly after receiving the news. I will remain...faithful...

she received no answer, this much she suspected there had been nothing but echoes since that day.

Two months later...

Nuada made his way to the dungeons, wanting to taunt his prisoner with the news of his new bride. The look on the warden's face when he asked to be taken to the cell told him something was amiss. He demanded the key before opening the cell and striding in. He noticed her robes had been replaced with an over large gown.

"...She eats little, and what she does ends up in the slops." The warden said. "She don't move much either..."

He watched her move her hand, smoothing down the fabric. He watched her hand pause, then continue to smooth down the fabric again.

"...The midwife said the child...will be born damaged." The warden continued. "...She hasn't really moved since then.

He was paying only half attention, but the words "midwife" and "damaged" made him turn.

"How so and why wasn't I informed of this..."

The warden paled, the king was not happy.

"You said you would deal with her as your leisure, I took your word for it since you ordered her into the darkest cell.

"Bring me a light, I wish to look at her...closer."

With torch in hand, he went in farther.

"...No one has touched her since the midwife came." The warden said.

He came to sand over her, his hand reaching out to finish what he had started five months ago

The next thing he knew there were four bloody furrows scored into his hand. She'd let her nails grow long, no wonder no one had touched her. He caught her hand as she tried to take a swipe at his thigh. He let her hand go, disgusted at being touched by a human.

"I will have a guarded room prepared, clip her claws before you bring her." He hissed. "Before she takes a piece out of your warders."

The warden nodded, looking back at the woman curled upon herself.

The room was little better than the cell, at least there was sunlight. She had not moved since being carried in by the chief warden. Her eyes were so used to the darkness, she barely saw others come and go, only turning to look at the blur before turning her back to the tray being set down again. A hand brushed over her hair, she pulled back from it.

"You must eat..." The midwife said. "for the sake of your little one..."

The midwife looked up at the king and shook her head. They had tried to get her to eat some of the food they had provided.

"Please eat..." The midwife said again. "Its no use, she does not seem to want the food."

Nuada turned and left the room, the midwife followed.

"If she does eat, none of us have seen it, all she does it look at the wall." the woman frowned. "If I hadn't been told what she was I would say she's willing herself to die...giving everything to the child."

The High king shook his head and continued on. The midwife was left to stare at his back.


	33. sacrifices for the good

Two weeks later...

Nuada looked at the Sidhe woman whom he'd taken as his wife, she looked so delicate and serene in the Moonlight. She had a beauty almost ethereal as the light that came through the window. He rubbed a spot on his chest where two scars crossed, he'd become used to the dull ache behind them. He brought the long strands of his bride's hair to his lips and kissed the ends. He truly wanted to believe he was content with the woman beside him, but his thoughts kept turning to his prisoner.

Soon too weary to sleep, he felt along one near rotted thread of a bond he had walled off months ago to meet a black void flavored with pain and grief. An echo of a long-ago promise whispered somewhere in that void, picking at his memories. The pain of meeting it was brief as he withdrew behind the wall again. He rose from his bed, pulling on a pair of silk pants. Not being able to sleep, he would look in on his son before going to look upon his prisoner.

He rarely came to see the boy during his waking hours, to have those green eyes look at him with such sorrow reminded him of her. Being reminded of her brought the feelings of her betrayal to the fore. His anger had caused him to strike the boy once, shortly after he'd taken the Guild mistress prisoner and that had been enough. The boy feared him now and ran from him when he did make the effort to see him. Perhaps it would have been better to have left him with the guild.

He found the boy sleeping, the blankets and his doll upon the floor. He picked up the blankets and covered him again; tucking the doll close. Once resembling him, it had lost most of its carefully stitched features to Tam Lin's angry hands. He had not heard the boy speak since he'd brought him to the palace near a year ago. The only words had been to ask of his mother, even that had stopped after he'd struck him. He brushed his fingers gently over the boy's head before slipping from the room.

He entered Pen's cell. She was curled around her belly, obvious with how thin she had become. The tray that had been brought earlier was untouched, save for the tea. This was the third night he'd come to find the food uneaten. Her body shook, the expensive blankets he'd provided were shoved to the end of the un-sheeted bed. He reached to pull one of them up to cover her, but paused before stopping his action.

So far, she'd rejected every act of kindness he tried to show. From the fresh food to the blanket he now held in his hand, she had near thrown it all in his face. Each time that dull ache would sharpen and his heart would beat painfully against his ribs. He could not bring himself to strike her, nor remove the collar that kept her silent. He covered her with the blanket as the sound of steel being drawn from a sheath reached his ears.

He turned sharply to see Lochain leaning up against the door frame, a blade held loosely in his hand.

"...What do you want here." Nuada snapped. "You and your guild are banned from my court."

"Guild mistress Pen. Remove the collar and return her to me." Lochain said. "I've kept to that, but your imprisonment of my heir and her unborn child..."

"She betrayed me..."

"How Silverlance, by being chosen as your assassin. I did that, at your sire's request."

Nuada put a hand to his chest, the ache sharpened. There was something in Lochain's tone of voice.

"...A clean death, no suffering..."

It hurt, his heart was beating much too fast.

"A song to guild you across the veil..."

His knees gave out, and the coppery-sweet taste of blood came at the back of his throat.

"...She's been singing it for herself for days..." Lochain said. "She loved you...she loves you still..."

He pitched forward, blackness claiming him.

Days later, the Royal chamber...

Nuada turned and groaned, his body felt as if it had been trampled beneath his stallion. He remembered looking in on his son and his prisoner. There was a healer beside him, he tried to focus his eyes. It was as if for a moment he was blind again, unable to set eyes upon anything.

"...Rest your majesty..."

"What...happened...the singer...guild head..."

"The prisoner was gone when we found you..." The healer said. "though we don't know how she escaped..."

He had a good idea, the Guild's head had come and taken her away. He'd strangle the bastard once he got his hands on him.

"Your sight should clear in a day or two..." The healer said.

He lay back against the pillows, vowing never to claim the child.

The Guildhall...

Pen had gone into labor shortly after their arrival. Lochain had stayed with her through it, and after when they brought the child to her. He had held the child in his arms, watched blue eyes fade to green before those eyes clouded into a milky jade. Nuada had cursed his own child, who would never have a claim to the throne of Bethmora.

He watched her now as she nursed, rocking the small child close. He knew the news of a son would soon reach Nuada, and the High King would be paying a visit. He did not dread the king's arrival, only feared for the child and his mother.

"Have you decided on a name?" The guild head asked, bringing her food.

"Dian Cecht..." She said. "The healer who made a silver hand for another Nuada long ago..."

"An old name, one rarely spoken." He said. "I should have provided you with better security..."

"What is done, is done." She said. "He would have found me one way or another..." She looked at the food he'd brought. "...I ate so little..."

"I know..." He said. "...get used to clean food again...so I brought tea and lameness..."

she smiled, "Ginger tea..."

"Yes, with honey."

She looked down at her son, near sightless eyes looked up at her, holding onto her fingers for reassurance he was safe.

"When you're done...I'll tuck him in."

She smiled, nodding.

A month later...

Nuada rode up to the Gates of the Guildhall once more, this time he was met outside them by Lochain. The Guild's head wasn't about to let him pass without an assurance that he'd not harm Pen or her child.

"Where is she..."

"Safe within..." Lochain said. "She bore a son..."

The word cut deep, another "Taint" upon his father's blood lived. Somewhere deep within, cloaked beneath the hate and pain was a small pinpoint of pride that he had another son.

"I would much like to see this abomination..."

Lochain frowned. "Your guards and your weapons remain outside..."

Nuada threw his lance to his bodyguard and he dismounted.

"Your sword and dagger as well..."

He shed them as well, following the Guild head into the hall.

Lochain led him into what must have been another room at one point but was now a nursery. He noticed something humans called a "rocking chair" was placed beside a cradle. A crib sat in one corner, and a small form slept within. The guild head went over and carefully lifted the small bundle carefully before bringing the child to him. The child was not placed into his arms but held so he could see.

The child's features were still too tiny to say which of his parents he favored, and small fists curled as he fussed in his sleep. He began to reach out, but then pulled away. He would not be swayed by what he saw.

"...it must have a name..."

"Dian Cecht..." Lochain said.

His heart stopped for two beats, the child had been named for a great healer.

"Where is she?"

"She did not want to see you..." Lochain said. "though if you have a message..."

"No, I do not." He reached into his tunic, letting a pouch drop to the floor. "She will have the same sum yearly until the child reaches his maturity...under the condition, she never bring him to court."

"Of that, you can be assured, even if she returns to the Dublin market." Lochain said. "What of Tam Lin...?"

"...I will return him here..." He said. "and a second sum will be given under the same conditions."

Lochain nodded. "as you wish, your bargain struck...now go."

Nuada took one last look at the child before he turned and saw himself out of the hall.

Two months later...

Tam Lin near flew toward his mother, catching her around the waist and holding her tightly. She was happy to have her son back, but it was of his sire she worried. She had begun to hear rumors of the war escalating of the enclaves becoming armed camps. Even the one where she had first loved the elf prince was slowly being torn apart from within. She was near glad her sire had died shortly after her leave-taking so he could not see what had become of the place he had fled to.

Her heart was broken, though she knew the war had to happen. Humans had to be reminded that what they destroyed was not just themselves. It was a lesson the Sidhe needed to know as well. Many thought it joyous news when word of a Sidhe prince being born reached the guild, for Pen it was a painful reminder of what her skills had cost her. She became more withdrawn, quiet and sung less. Lochain could see that she mourned, if not for herself perhaps for those who had died unknowingly of why.

A year later...

The battles were moving closer and closer to the Guildhall, they started receiving requests to sing the dying to their rest. Wounded would be brought to their gates, healers would come too weary to do much but sleep. Royal orders commandeering their best singers to the front lines to care for the generals became commonplace. Pen would stand upon the gates, watching, waiting. The vision she'd received two years ago had begun to return to her mind. She knew it was only a matter of time before the royal banner would be riding down the road with Nuada behind it.

That "vision" came true all too soon, the High King's banner flew fast behind the herald. A litter carried by four strong men followed behind. Pen turned from her position upon the gates, she did not wish to see him bleed his life out. It was late in the night that Lochain came to find her.

"...He has requested to see you." Lochain said. "Though if you do not wish to see him..."

She rose from the chair beside Dain cecht's crib. Tam Lin slept a short distance away.

"Was it a Royal command?"

"No, but he is dying..." Lochain said. "One of the humans shot him twice, we've only been able to remove one bullet...if we move the other..."

"Die by blood loss or die by iron poisoning..." She sighed. "Neither a pleasant death..."

"No, not a pleasant death."

She closed her eyes, weighing out her decision. She could let him die, end the darkness that consumed him and free him to be reborn or do as her heart bade her.

"I will come..."

Lochain nodded, letting her finish with her son.

"The Queen is with him, give her a few moments..."

She nodded, she would come as asked.

Pen dressed in her formal robes and prepared to say good-bye. She entered the chamber quietly, she saw the young queen bent over him, weeping. His eyes were closed, and his breathing labored. Her light steps made the Queen raise her head, her eyes flashing as she saw her.

"...He called for me..." She said, moving to the other side and taking his hand.

His flesh was cool, life slipping away.

"I am here..."

She would have added "beloved" if the queen had not been there.

He turned his head, his eyes opened and something shined deep in those depths.

"Sing for me..." It was bearly a whisper.

She began to sing, her voice rusty but it was a song.

Nuada kept his eyes upon her, even as his queen reached over to touch his face. He kept trying to speak until Pen put a finger to his lips and shook her head. She noticed the queen's gaze, jealousy screamed from it. She longed to place one kiss upon his lips, but would not. His eyes closed but he kept his head turned toward her.

Pen didn't know how long she had sung, but Lochain's hand pried hers from Nuada's a long time later. The guild head took her into his arms and held her, rocking her. She had not realized she had been shedding tears.

"...It's ok now...shush...your task is done." Lochain said, turning to the queen and rising with her. "I will remove her now..."

Lochain carried her to a room off his study, laid her down upon the cot and stroked her hair. She barely heard the queen enter and begin inquiring.

"Why did he summon her..." The queen's tone was accusatory.

"...She was his bond mate..." Lochain said. "and would have been his consort."

"A human?" the queen's tone cut.

"For a few brief moments that did not matter." The guild head said softly. "She loves him still despite..."

The queen's words must have irritated Lochain as well as she heard the door close, and the voices turned to muffled murmurs.

Three days later...

Lochain set the warm mug of tea before her. Her voice hadn't returned after singing for Nuada. She had done what none had dared and paid for it with her voice. She had saved the High King but had lost the man she loved. The guildhall had been abuzz with her feat, no one thought the king would survive the second bullet. She picked up the mug, nodding her thanks.

"...His Majesty called for you again." Lochain said. "Will you go?"

she shook her head, she did not like the queen looking at her like she was some whore seeking her husband's bed. She had never been that to Nuada and never would be.

Having gone to see his progress the second day, The queen had attacked her when she'd touched Nuada over his heart. She had thought the gesture would be a touchstone for him to rise from the healing sleep. The left side of her face bore the long scratches from the queen's nails.

"You know he won't be happy with your answer."

She closed her eyes, she knew this.

"I will tell him..."

Her hands trembled around the mug, her choice made.


	34. Sour taste

Two weeks later...

Nuada had enough strength to move about if he was careful and kept his movements to a minimum. His queen had not left his side and had delegated his generals in his stead. With growing horror, he saw the vicious gleam in her eye as the reports of the dead and captured humans were read. Most of those captured were either unable or too young to fight. One such was tethered in a corner of their room, brought from the city they had razed too young to fight or even know why he was held as a prisoner. He did not blame the boy for the frightened look.

He'd seen Tam Lin once since he had arrived, in Lochain's company. The boy still feared him, which he was quickly coming to regret. He had not asked to see Dian cecht, he did not wish to look into those milky jade eyes and know what his curse had done. His queen had looked at Tam Lin like a wet, muddy dog had been brought into the room and allowed to shake off the wet onto the surroundings.

"Abomination..." She'd spat when Lochain had taken Tam Lin out of the room. "How can you acknowledge that...thing."

He'd wanted to strangle the woman, how dare she call one of his children an abomination. True they were half-sidhe but that did not make them any less than the child he'd sired upon her. He'd held his tongue until she'd exhausted her tirade about how the Royal bloodline was to remain pure. He'd had a few choice words for her about her attitude toward his son. She'd huffed out the room, leaving him to himself.

He was beginning to suspect his queen was the reason his requests to see the guild mistress had been politely declined.

"Why do you wish to have a whore in your bed when I am your lawful wife..." His queen had hissed as he'd made his request to Lochain. "She is filth that shouldn't be allowed to touch you..."

He had given her a cutting look and spoke much too softly about vows made long before those to her. The vows he'd said to Pen were those of a sovereign to his land and people in the form of the goddess. His words had silenced her, but he knew something was brewing behind her chastised look.

He also suspected she was the reason his last tithe to the Guild for the upkeep of his sons had disappeared as soon as it departed The Royal treasury. He'd found a lot about his wife in the last year, and was quickly coming to loathe the woman. Her callous disrespect for the warriors and generals that led his armies. Her absolute hatred for the small bands of humans who had turned their backs upon their own kind to see the land renewed. These things were at the Fore of his loathing as the small bands had earned his respect for their commitment and loyalty alone.

Now her calling Tam Lin an abomination when the boy had been a gift he never thought the gods would grant. His mother was human, but that had not mattered when he'd looked into those eyes and seen what could be. The boy's mother had given him peace for a short time, and he longed to know it again. He was losing his taste for war and conquest, even more so after the two bullets tore through his body.

His heart grew heavy with each report, so much loss and blood. His sister's words about the fields not growing after being watered with so much blood came back to haunt him. There had been four thousand dead in the last battle, the goblin army had been near decimated. The Goblin king's report included the death of four of his children, soldiers in his armies. His heart ached, trying to imagine Tam Lin as he had been laying upon the battlefield. He'd written his sympathies to Jareth, and had received cold thanks in return. He knew if he met Jareth again it would be with cold formality if at all.

He was beginning to understand why his father had ended the war with a truce. Before Pen's song had pulled him back to the living, the lady and her consort had been most instructive in their displeasure of their children's squabble. He had been reminded, quite harshly, that the elder were to have taught the younger not made war with them. They had done something to him, healed him in a way no healer could. He bore the marks of that healing upon his soul.

Elsewhere in the Guildhall...

Pen's voice still hadn't returned, nor would it any time soon. She'd not told Lochain the sacrifice of her voice had been her choice. As she had sung the lady had given her a choice, a small bit of her life or her voice. She had chosen, as it seemed a fair bargain after the small life she had lost when she'd prevented him from crossing the veil. She'd studied various cant's, signs and gestures to speak without words. She chose the traditional one that had been formally used by the Guild, which seemed to please Lochain.

Shortly after the Queen's arrival, Pen began avoiding the Dining hall as the queen and her "court" also took their meals there. She did not like to be looked at like some whore by the queen and the cronies. She quickly grew tired of just Lochain for company. The guild head decided to escort her to the dining hall one evening.

"...You've faced down haughty women like the queen before." He told her as he walked her into the hall.

"I had my tongue then..." She signaled.

"True enough..." He said then paused as they entered. "...Is it not strange that the High King does not take meals with his queen."

She turned her attention to the table where the queen and the small court of singers and nobles that had followed their king gathered around a table. These too had been another reason she had declined to take meals in the dining hall, she did not like to be looked at as if she were a whore.

"You think something amiss?"

"I have been tending him personally for the last week, he seems to get no better." Lochain said. "It would be no trouble you were to slip away and bring him a tray." He lowered his voice. "Go to the kitchens, oversee the preparation of a meal..."

"I know the cooks..." She signaled. "...I shall see it done."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Full night gear...leave by the passages..."

She nodded as she quietly turned, slipping out before she was spotted.

The Guest chambers...

Nuada did not feel well, he'd noticed the change shortly after Tam Lin came to visit. He knew he couldn't be ill, Lochain was seeing to his recovery personally. He'd grow so weak, his queen had fed him shortly before seeking her own meal. After the meal, he always felt worse, even now as his joints ached and his limbs felt heavy. He heard two heavy thumps outside the door, as his consciousness began to fade in and out. He barely could make out a dark cloaked figure carrying a tray enter as a sudden wind blew the candles out.

Pen had not wanted to extinguish the candles, but the less Nuada saw of her the better. It was a disaster enough that she had to knock out the guards before she entered. The tray she carried bore food she had overseen the making of. She saw the tray the queen had ordered, she'd bring samples to Lochain after she finished. She set the tray by the bedside while she cleared off the table, thankful that the mixture of grease and lamp black did not come off on objects. She would take the "tainted" tray with her when she left.

Nuada felt himself being lifted, a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound of pain he made. A cup, smelling richly of Goblin Chocolate met his lips. The first sip near choked him, but once he realized it had been made strong he let the warm sweetness flow down his throat. A few morsels of food were given. Some of his pain eased, but there was still a heaviness in his limbs. He turned his head, his face meeting fabric smelling faintly of cedar as if it had been stored away for an extended period. Gentle fingers touched his temple, then the scar upon his face, and back to his temple. It was a memory, a touchstone to sink into a healing sleep, into Reverie.

Pen felt his breath on her neck through the layer of fabric. Thankful she'd long ago conditioned him to that sequence of touches to ease him into sleep. Now those touches would put him deeper, into a healing state only she could break. With any luck he would never know it had been her who set him into this state.

She eased him back to the mattress, he reeked of sickness and something else she couldn't pinpoint. Whatever had been done, had come in gradual increments, as to be near unnoticed. She wished for her voice, it would have made identifying what had been used easier. There was no time to delay, she still had to get samples to Lochain so Nuada could be properly treated.

She leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his temple, before marking the tainted tray and taking the one she'd brought. She went to the wall and gently felt along, tripping the hidden lock. Not even one of the Sidhe would be able to find the door, once it was closed again. One had to know it was there to trip the lock. She slid into the passage and closed the door with a near-silent click. She put her back against it for a moment before hurrying down the passageway. She'd drop off the tray and go to see Lochain.

Lochain's study...

The guild head poured the warm water into the basin, adding cleansing herbs to steep. The pualmus soap was already waiting. He would hear Pen's report, and give her an alibi if one of the Queen's cronies came looking. He watched her emerge from the hidden doorway, looking wrung out. He knew it was no easy task what she had done, nor would the next one he set for her be.

"I marked the tray" She signaled before shedding the great cloak that had helped to hide her features. "No one but the cook will notice."

"Good." He said. "Get cleaned up."

She nodded and began scrubbing the grease and lamp black from her hands and face. Anyone having seen her would have sworn a drow had made their way into the guildhall. Then she took a brush to her hair, pulling out all the soot and powder he'd used to disguise it.

"...What is your prognosis?" Lochain asked taking the brush from her and continuing her task. "And did you put him in Reverie..."

"There is poison, and something else...it has been gradual, only a small amount at a time." She signed. "He stank of sickness, something deep in the body..." There was a pause. "Yes..."

the guild head paused, "...I will attend to the poison." He drew the brush through her hair. "You will bring him up when I have finished..."

"The queen is ambitious..." She signed, changing the subject. "Perhaps more than is good for her..."

Lochain let out a snort of laughter, even without her voice he could tell his little heir was jealous. It was the first time she had expressed such when it came to Nuada.

"All Royal women are ambitious, some more so than others." He said. "But yes, the High Queen has motives that could cause harm." He pulled the brush through her hair in long slow strokes. "She was not too welcoming of Tam Lin, even though there is little chance of him gaining the throne now." He watched her shoulders fall. "I'm sorry, I forgot you know this well enough."

"I know, now that there is a Sidhe child..." her fingers paused. "...What life would he have with me in the market..."

"...That I cannot answer, little pearl." He said, giving her hair a few more strokes. "There...I am done. A hot bath will take care of the rest."

"Thank you." She signed as she rose. "I'll be returning to my quarters..."

"...I'll escort you." He said, setting the brush down. "You shouldn't wander the halls alone, tonight."

She wondered what Lochain was talking about, she normally traversed the halls alone. Something had not been right in the guildhall for the last few days.

"What is going to happen tonight?"

"The Queen has placed guards along each of the corridors." He whispered. "And has made inquiries of the older guild members..."

She frowned, this was not good.

"Do not take anything from the servants coming to your door tonight." He said, slipping her a packet. "eat what is in the packet, I'll make sure Tam Lin and Dian cecht are safe."

She nodded, and let him lead her back to her chambers.

They paused outside her chamber, Lochain opening the door. He leaned in again, his lips close to her ear. He did not want the guards to hear him give her further orders.

"If they attempt to come through the door..." He looked at the guard at the end of the hall. "Use the passages, Your blades are just inside the one that runs between here and my study, go there. I will have safe passage for you and your children to Jareth's castle..."

She nodded, there was going to be an all-out war, the Queen had chosen her battleground well.

"Nuada?" She asked. "What of..."

"Just this once...little pearl...just trust."

She nodded, plans had been set in motion long before this and she was just a pawn.

Lochain got Pen into her rooms and secured, then hurried to the nursery. He would get the boys prepared. He wasn't about to let his plans be ruined by that jealous bitch of a queen, his heir, and her children had to be safe and out of this conflict. He was glad there was a variations on the summons he wouldn't have to run the labyrinth for them just see them safe.

He aroused Tam Lin gently, getting the boy to his feet. He dressed him in the buff and gray robes of an apprentice singer. This would provide some protection. He then got Dian cecht from his crib, the small elfling began to wail being picked up.

"Hush, hush..." He said. "You'll be safe soon."

He wrapped the elfling in several blankets, and took Tam Lin's hand.

"We're going to see your mother..." He told Tam Lin. "Keep close and when I tell you to run, you run."

Tam Lin nodded, pulling close to Lochain. The Guild head sprung the lock on the passage door and pulled them in, closing it. He would get them to the study, and hopefully into Jareth's protection.

The guest chambers, A short time later...

The queen smiled as she looked over the report she'd been given. Her nails ran up and down Nuada's chest, leaving scratches the high king did not feel. She could easily make it look like he'd been murdered in his bed and she assaulted, a servant had brought her tea. She sipped it, relishing the thought of possibly having the Human whore captured and silting her throat before Nuada's eyes.

"Your majesty, The children have vanished from the nursery..." Said the guard. "The guild head went in but no one saw them leave..."

"Impossible, bring me the bitch, she has to know where they have gone."

"As you command..."

The queen looked at Nuada, sneering.

"Do not worry husband, you will not long survive your whore or those abominations..."

She went back to her planning, waiting for the final word that the Guildhall had been secured.


	35. vanishing act

Pen's chambers...

Pen quickly began packing, taking only what could easily fit into two haversacks. Mostly Jewels and gold to sell if she needed, then a few mementos. She came across the ornate pendant Nuada had given her, she paused to put it around her neck. It would be one item she would not part with, she touched the finely worked silver for a moment and then continued. She dressed in her traveling clothes, sliding her feet into sturdy boots.

She'd refused two servants before she began, knowing it was only a matter of time. She snatched a mini urn of ashes, her father's. She heard feet out in the hall, she had to hurry. She shouldered both packs and tripped the lock as the door began to be pounded. She slid through and closed the door. She saw her blades, waiting as promised. She had to make it to Lochain's study.

Lochain's study...

The guild head was waiting as Pen emerged again from the passage. Tam Lin ran to her, frightened. Pen saw Lochain had Dian cecht cradled in his arms.

"Take your son..." He said softly. "I will see you safely away." He settled the little elfling in her arms. "Tam Lin, stay close to your mother."

The boy obeyed, clinging to his mother. Lochain settled the great cloak Pen and worn only a few hours before around her shoulders. He laid a kiss on her forehead before backing away.

"Goblin king, Goblin king, where ever you may be..."

Pen knew that incantation, He was summoning not Jareth but the king of goblins.

The Goblin king appeared in all his flamboyant glory, smirking as he approached. Unlike Sarah, he had no crystal for Lochain. He simply gathered Pen and her children close, and vanished. Lochain closed his eyes, he hoped she would be safe until Nuada could find her again. He turned to wait for the Queen to come and demand Pen's whereabouts.

A short time later, the Goblin kingdom...

Pen stood in the throne room, surrounded by Goblins. She had heard the report and now wondered if Jareth had forged it knowing the Queen would be reading it.

"...Settle yourself." Jareth said, banishing his Armor. "I will have rooms made up for you and your children."

She made to sign, to ask why.

"Do not ask Guild Mistress, for you would not like the answer," Jareth said. "I have lied a thousand times over to my king in the last year, do not make it a thousand and one..."

She wondered what he meant by lying to Nuada.

"I know you have no voice, Lochain was quite clear on how you and your children were to be kept." He sighed. "You are to be kept here, safe within the walls of the castle. Given any luck, your stay will not be long."

She touched the pendant around her neck, Jareth noticed and shook his head.

"Only fate can say if it will be Nuada or Lochain who comes for you," Jareth said. "Your rooms will be ready shortly..."

She nodded, her heart already cracking into smaller pieces.

The Guildhall...

The queen wiped the dagger blade upon the deep blue robes, satisfied the Guild head's heart was significantly punctured. Lochain had refused to give up the location of the little whore and her abominations. Her nose wrinkled at the stench of burned velum, the document had already burned beyond recognition before her guards had taken down the door.

"I do not care if you have to take the place apart, I want that whore found. No excuses..." She hissed to her guard. "And why can't my husband be roused..."

"We do not know, one of the singers must have gotten to him..."

She made a growling noise, she had wanted to show the fool what his fate would be if he did not order the deaths of his whore and those abominations he called sons.

"Find a way, his signature has to be on the warrant..."

Her husband had been cautious, deigning her the status of regent if he was injured or dead. She stomped out of the room, hoping one of the singers she'd so carefully converted to her point of view would know where the guild head would have sent something so precious to him.

Jareth's Salle, three days later...

Pen moved her body in fluid motion, letting it carry her mind into the void. She had yet to take up her blades and begin the serious Katas, but these simple movements calmed her enough to think.

I wonder why Nuada did not see what she was before he took her as a bride. A part of her mind thought. Someone had to have known...

"love" can blind. Another part said. Even if he was warned, he would not have listened.

She played her cards well, going after the one thing that could stand in her way. The first part said. I and the guild.

She could find allies there... The second part warned. Jaren and his followers...

She had totally forgotten about the man who had raised her and betrayed her. After Lochain had confined him, he'd begun gathering the discontent among the guild, calling for the old ways to be reinstated.

Jareth denied him passage...he cannot cross the borders.

That did not stop Finnas, he had one of his own already within the court...

She began to move faster, working her body through more of the movements.

It was sometime later that Jareth came in, pausing to watch her movements. She was almost as fast as one of the Sidhe, or as close as a human could come. His footfalls made her stop.

"Continue...I did not mean to disturb your routine."

She walked over to the bench and picked up a towel, giving him a weary smile.

"You did not disrupt me, I was nearly done." She signed.

"That is good," Jareth said. "For the news I bear is not..."

"Lochain..."

He nodded. "The queen's dagger, it appears he refused a royal order to disclose your location."

She shook her head, she'd mourn for her guild brother after...when the war came to an end.

"And of Nuada?"

"The king cannot be roused...I have been told the queen is quite put out."

She allowed herself a small smile. "...The healing sleep is not easily broken."

"So someone put him in Reverie..." Jareth laughed. "only the one who set it upon him can bring him..." He looked at her. "that sly old fox...He had you do it."

She smiled wider, and silently nodded.

"Ah the sweet irony, in order to rouse him she needs you...and to have you she needs a Royal warrant...which she cannot have without him." He smiled, perhaps for the first time since commiting his armies. "Come to my study after you have cleaned up, I have something Lochain left for you."

She nodded, wondering what the guild head had left her.

A battle field somewhere near the guild hall...

The queen paced up and down in the Royal tent, she'd left the guild hall in Jaern's capable hands and had taken the fight to the humans. She had overseen the slaughter of her husband's little band of pet humans, delightful but somehow unsatisfying. Each had bowed to the blade, speaking one phrase; "we remember." It had infuriated her, that willingness to die. The humans were supposed to be selfish, hollow and vain creatures; not be willing to die upon a Sidhe blade.

"...There is no change, even when we dribble broth past his lips." The healer said. "The reverie is unbreakable save by the one who cast it."

The queen had gutted the unfortunate man a moment later, ordering her body guards to toss the screaming man from her tent.

"Find me that little human whore...I don't care how, just find the little bitch..."

The guard had scrambled to obey, leaving the queen fuming.

Somewhere deep in the reverie...

Nuada looked at himself across a void. This 'self" was scared, twisted and its eyes held madness. It was the 'other', the darkness both his little singer and Wink had kept at bay. It held the lance, staring hard eyed at its opposite. The observing 'self' was near whole, save for the wound that dripped blood from his heart. A line of blood flowed down the tip of the lance, its color matching his own. The 'other' gave a smile of malice, it desired to posses the body as much as he. Between them hung a ball of light, it pulsed to the beat of their shared heart.

Slowly, ever so slowly, a form manifested with that ball of light in their hands. Both recognized it, the lady. She looked at each and then at the light in her hands. Save for tears flowing from her eyes she was silent. It wasn't just the lady, it was their heart. "they" watched as the lady pulled the ball of light to her, holding it like the most fragile bubble. Her tears fell on the light, making them both tremble, for one it was like hot rain, for the other a cold and bitter sadness.

After what seemed like an age, the lady's tears stopped and she released the steady pulse to hang between them again. She looked at the darkness, her hand extending, tendrils, pieces came slowly to her. The other extending to the "light" it too slowly gave up pieces and tendrils. Each strand she drew together and spun them out into a thread that began to form around the pulse. Soon neither part could tell where one began and the other ended.

When the lady finished, before her was a whole being. She reached up, to brush away a tear upon his cheek. He had been crying as much as she, unnoticed in the blending. She took his hand and placed it against her heart. He could feel an object beneath his fingers, he looked to see the pendant he had given Pen so long ago laying in his hand..

"...she is waiting for you." The voice was soft, echoing.

He trembled, though whole he was fragile not yet strong enough. Her hand came to rest upon his heart, sending him deep into the void.

"Soon, my dear child..." The voice began to fade. "Sleep and heal, she is waiting..."

He surrendered, sinking deep into that cool grayness that flowed like a balm over his fragile being.


	36. Reconnecting

Jareth's castle...

Slowly Pen began to feel echoes, tendrils caressing along the connections she once shared with Nuada. Sometimes they were slow, asking; others demanded, latched on without even the slightest permission. The ones that latched on were strong, desperate and pleading. She began to feel him, deep in his reverie. It wasn't the maelstrom she felt the first time, but it was disorientating, to say the least. As more tendrils made contact, she began to feel more than echoes of him.

She felt something of him that was fragile, like her rejection of the tendrils would have shattered him anew. She tried to send out tendrils of her own but was met with a delicate refusal save for one. It was the one thing she couldn't give him, not after what he had done. He wanted her to bond as one heart, pleading each time the more delicate tendrils touched. So he began courting her again. Soon she began to fall asleep feeling his arms around her and hearing the steady beat of his heart in her ear. She knew he wasn't there, but the sensations seemed so real; so solid.

She wept each morning knowing what she had felt was only a ghost of sensation. She wanted him in the flesh, his heart beating as they made love. She knew it would be a long time before she would ever get the chance to touch him again. This knowledge only added to her sadness and the aching sense of loss she felt upon waking.

Jareth's study...

Jareth frowned as he watched his guest through a crystal, it was the eighth time in as many weeks she'd woken up weeping. Her separation from Nuada was taking its toll.

"What else will this cost you." Jareth wondered as he watched.

"Over much," Sarah said as she walked in. "Are you sure the queen will take the bait?"

"Yes, I am sure." He said. "If she is anything like the rest of her family...:" He smirked. "I cannot wait to see her face when she realizes that my armies are at full strength..."

"No doubt she has doubled hers..."

Jareth turned to his wife. "No doubt, but she will be expecting a small, easily defeat able force."

Sarah smiled. "I had forgotten the labyrinth itself..."

"Yes." Jareth said. "I have a spy or two planted in the queen's camp, they will spirit away Nuada from the Royal tent."

"...and into the castle," Sarah said. "This war has already cost many lives..."

"It will end, just as Balor's war ended," Jareth said. "And I hope with the lessons not being forgotten..."

Sarah nodded, "They will not be, for there are many children who are young enough to learn..."

"I hope the adults are that fortunate..."

Sarah hoped so too.

Having chosen how he would acquire the king from the queen's camp, Jareth smiled at the two boggles who chittered around a messenger's pouch. They would be delivered into the camp and make sure the King was whole before setting in motion the second part of the plan. He hoped his spies knew enough to disappear after the plan was set in motion.

A short time later, the Royal stables...

Pen leaped up into the saddle, pulling the great cloak around herself. Jareth had requested she dress in her night gear and deliver a message. She would happily oblige, she wanted to look the bitch queen in the eye and gloat. The black gauntlets had replaced grease and lamp black upon her hands, and a featureless hood obscured her face. Soot from the kitchen hearth darkened her hair to black, and beneath the hood, the mixture reduced the shine of her skin.

"Do not wait for a reply..." Jareth said, fastening the messenger pouch to the saddle. "Just drop the pouch and ride off..."

She nodded and signed. "I would rather return with the queen's heart in it."

"I know, but leave that for cooler heads," Jareth said. "The black messenger is a formal declaration of war in the underground. None in the labyrinth will hinder you, the safe passage token will get you in and out of the borders..."

She nodded again, ready to ride.

"Go..." Jareth said, slapping the horse's rump. "and may the gods go with you..."

She took off, calling upon all her skills to keep control of the horse. She'd have to slow the beast to keep her seat upon the stunning beast.

At the edge of Jareth's lands...

The queen was furious, she had tracked the little human whore to the Goblin kingdom. All that stood between her and vengeance upon the house of Balor was a vast plane and the walls of a mad king's maze. She'd long heard rumors that the singer had been the Goblin King's mistress, that would have been enough to put her jealousy to rest but having watched the way her husband had looked at her. She threw the scroll across the room, even the memory of the woman was enough to send her into a fit of anger. The little whore should have had no claim to her husband, just by the virtue of being human filth.

She turned to the bed, Nuada still lay as still as death upon it. She should have long ago plunged a dagger into his heart, but having found out about his feelings for a human and the children she'd birthed...it would not matter soon. She ran her hand gently over his face, his breath was warm upon her fingers. It had been thus since they had left the guildhall weeks ago.

"Soon my husband, soon your kingdom will be mine and you will be a memory..." She said, her voice dripping with malice. "Along with your whore and her abominations."

There were shouts outside the tent, cries of messenger drew her out.

She emerged from the tent to see a rider cloaked in black upon a midnight stallion riding through her ranks. Jaeren was close behind her, his eyes wide. Jareth was truly mad if he was sending a black rider into the queen's camp.

"A black rider is an official declaration of war," Jaeren said, mostly to himself. "My brother must be mad..."

The stallion was reigned in before them and a pouch was dropped before the rider turned the beast and road off. As traditional, the rider did not wait for a reply. Jaeren frowned, either this was a ploy to trap them in the labyrinth or lure them into a bigger trap.

"Then your brother will die if he stands in my way..." The queen said, signaling one of her guards to pick up the pouch. "I want the calvary mounted before sunset, we attack at nightfall..."

Jaeren turned to the way the Rider had come, wondering what had driven his twin to such a mad act as to declare war upon the High Queen's army.

The Royal stables, a short time later...

Pen pulled the great beast to a halt before the stable doors, Jareth was waiting for her. She pulled back her hood and gave him a smile. He could not help but think she looked like an urchin with her face lightly smeared with soot and grease.

"Pouch delivered..." She signed. "The reaction was as you suspected, they think you mad..."

"Good, now go in and prepare. We will be having guest tonight..."

She smirked "unwelcome ones..."

Jareth nodded. "I will need you to stay out of sight until everything is ready, Hoggel and the others will lead them into the maze. They and Bryin will take care of them from there..."

She nodded, it would be in the throne room that she would be waiting for Jareth to give her the chance to take out Jaeren.

The encampment...

The guard laid the pouch on the map table in the royal tent, the queen had gone to see the organization of the attack personally. He made sure no one was looking before he opened it.

"Come out little ones..."

Two chittering three-headed boggles came out, protesting having been thrown to the ground.

"Yes yes...just stay with the King." he paused. "We will be moving him shortly..."

The boggles chittered more before leaping down off the table and hiding in the blankets around Nuada's body. The King would be safe, at least for now.

The castle beyond the Goblin city...

Jareth frowned as he made to don his battle armor. He hoped they could hold the ruse for a while so their spies could get Nuada out. Once the King was safely away, their numbers could be revealed. The Labyrinth made eager sounds, it had been a long time since it had been used to defend the castle from invaders other than the runners. He took a perverse delight in that sound, it meant the oubliettes would be full by battle's end. He turned to see Sarah in similar attire to when he held court.

"You know the plan..."

She nodded, "If they breach the castle, to the Dublin Market and then to your mother's lands..."

Jareth nodded. "Good, make sure the elder children understand this. I do not wish any of my children in that bitch's hands..."

Sarah nodded. "Pen's two boys are in the nursery, they will be evacuated with the others..."

Jareth nodded. "Be strong my queen, my precious..."

Sarah came and put her arms around him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He held her wishing he did not have to go into battle.

Elsewhere in the castle...

Pen sat in the window seat, looking out across the labyrinth. If she did not know better she would have sworn the line of a fog she saw was just that, but she knew better. Her swords leaned up against the wall, she was the final component. Oh, she had known this for some time, Lochain had long called her a precaution, and now it was almost time for that to pay off. Her night gear lay upon the bed, her hair was already colored with soot and powder. She would not be a pawn, not in this end game. She owed that much to her guild head.

She turned from the window to prepare, weapons were laid out upon the table. Lochain had left her his weapons and his legacy. They were a reminder of why he had turned the guild from war, the Singers had been a weapon too long misused. Along with his weapons, he had sent papers naming her his heir. She ran her fingers over the hilts of one or two of the daggers, by rights she was now head of The Singer's Guild and her choices would guide where it would go next. First, she had one piece of business to finish.

It fell to her to avenge Lochain and her sundered guild. To do that, she would have to take out Jaeren. Lochain had shown mercy by simply confining the Goblin Prince to the Guildhall, knowing even then he would have a nest of vipers within. She would show no mercy, but she would let cooler heads decide the fate of the other traitors; Jaeren was hers. She turned from the weapons and proceeded to dress for the coming battle.


	37. Sleeping prince

The throne room, a short time later...

Jareth watched Pen descend the stairs, wearing her night gear. He also noticed she wore a band around her throat, a sign of her lost voice. She came to stand beside the throne, her green eyes darkened by the emotions behind them.

"I will not be a pawn in this..." She signed. "I am owed vengeance too."

Jareth nodded, it was true enough. His brother had destroyed the guild for something as petty as power.

"Then stand beside me Guild Mistress, we will greet our enemies together..." He said. "Do you know how to draw a longbow?"

She nodded, it had been a long time but she remembered.

"An arrow for a traitor's heart..."

"You will only have one shot...Drow."

She gave him a wicked grin, producing a small container that held her mixture of grease and lamp black. When she was finished applying it, and in full gear, all would swear a drow had pulled the bowstring upon that fated arrow.

"One of the light Siders will back you up," Jareth said. "He will be aiming for the queen's heart."

She grinned, "King's rook takes queen..."

He could not help but find amusement in her chest analogy.

"Something like that..." Jareth said. "Finish your preparations, the queen will most likely attack at twilight..."

She nodded and began applying the mixture to her skin, time would be short.

The encampment...

Two dark figures approached the Royal tent. One remained outside to keep watch while the other slid in. The figure said something in a low voice and one of the boggles wiggled out from a fold in the blanket. It chittered about the queen having come to gloat a short time before.

"I know little one, We move shortly." The figure said, then began folding up the blankets and fine sheets around the king. "Full darkness..."

The second boggle chittered too as it wiggled itself out, the figure hushed them both before finding what they were looking for; a large dark blanket. The second figure came in, frowning.

"She's coming..."

"Damn it, distract her...We need another few minutes..."

"On it, just get him out of here..."

The first figure nodded, they had to work quickly.

Nuada was shrouded in layers of blankets, as they ride through the Labyrinth was going to be rough. They would be riding in the midst of the cavalry, hidden by glamour and old magick. The two boggles would be providing the Glamour and the one holding the king the old magick. With any luck, they would be beyond the Queen's reach before the bitch knew what hit her.

An hour later...

The horns sounded, calling all the mounted riders to the fore. The figure hefted his burden, slinging Nuada across the back of his horse. The glamour would make it look like he had a bedroll fastened behind him. The figure hoped to get beyond the walls quickly, or else the King was going to a pin cushion on top of being heavily bruised from the ride. The Goblin archers had an uncanny aim and nasty barbed arrows that hurt like hell going in and coming out. The figure took his place, waiting for the second signal.

The outer walls of the Labyrinth...

The archers were lined up, watching and waiting. Pen stood not far from where Jareth stood in the center. He had called up just enough to give the illusion that his armies had been near wiped out as he had reported. In her great cloak, she looked like one of the Light siders that had been spaced among the Goblins. She ran her fingers over the Goblin bow, strong for something so light.

It had been an age since she'd pulled a bowstring, but she had not forgotten the lesson of how and patience for the shot. Her eyes looked to the plane beyond, focusing on one figure that was her target. He would be easy enough to spot, for he wore a coronet upon his brow. She had heard that Jaeren had claimed the leadership of the guild for himself, saying there had been no heir. That was easy enough to learn from one of Jareth's spies, as was he was riding with the Queen in the High King's stead. The bitch hadn't wasted any time in choosing another consort, considering her husband still drew breath.

"...The King should be within the walls after the first volley." Jareth had told her. "Take your shot, then leave the wall, I have healers waiting."

She had nodded, all it would take was one shot. She fingered the owl feather fletching on the one arrow. The barb had been coated with a rather nasty poison. Even if Jaeren survived the shot, his hours were numbered.

Outside the walls...

The calvary horses danced eagerly to charge forward. The queen and Jaeren would ride before them, as the defenses were smashed. Jaeren would guide the queen through the maze and into the castle. The goblin prince was eager to drive a dagger into his brother's heart, he would be king.

"They are a puny force, just as the report said," Jaeren said. "My brother is mad to defend with so few."

"Then this will end quickly, and the executions can begin..." The Queen said. "Starting with my husband's little whore..."

Jaeren wondered why she was so fixated upon Pen, perhaps because of the precarious position of her own son. Pen's two sons were elder and thus could possibly be chosen as heirs. He would have placed Tam Lin upon the throne, giving them a puppet, but the council had ruled in favor of reinstating Nuada to the throne. Now they would have to deal with the mess.

The horn sounded a second time as the weak light sank below the horizon, the cavalry surged forward as a volley of arrows began. Riders were felled as the arrows rained down, many being trampled in the charge The figure spurred his horse faster, the sooner he got past the wall the sooner he could get the king to safety.

Pen stood on the wall, her arrow knocked and ready. She spotted Jaeren just as he road ahead of the mass of riders. The bastard was trying to make the wall and breach its defenses. She aimed, closed her eyes and released. Her arrow hit him in the thigh, not a fatal wound but enough to unhorse him and send him ass over teakettle to the ground. The second arrow flew past her ear, missing the queen but taking out her horse.

Got you... She thought and hurried down from the wall.

She made her way down to where Jareth had stationed the healers and began to aid in the treatment of the wounded.

The figure broke away from the charge, spurring the horse on under the cover of the arrows. The wall was made and the figure passed inside. Two healers rushed to take the well-shrouded king from the figure before he pitched forward, one of the goblin arrows had found their mark in an unintended target. Two other healers helped the rider down and began treating his wounds

Nuada was carried into a large tent and unshrouded. Pen gently pushed past the healers when they got him stripped of his clothing and the blankets. She leaned close and kissed his temple, then began the series of touches to rise him out of Reverie. She pulled back and into the shadows when his eyelids began to flutter.

She did not wish him to see her like this, after what her skills have cost. She would shed her night gear and clean the grease and lamp black from her skin before she allowed him to see her again. It was the least to be done, for even if their bond was repaired that one doubt that she would be waiting for him with a blade in hand would remain.

Some hours later...

Nuada felt something warm and liquid upon his skin, leaving behind the scent of wildflowers. The soft sound of a basin being set down, and the wringing of a rag. He tried to protest, but a gentle hand touched his forehead. He felt warmth and a sense of stillness, he opened his eyes to Pen's countenance. He reached up, ever so painfully, to touch the band at her throat. Her hand met his halfway, then their fingers laced.

"Lochain told me..." his voice was harsh from disuse. "You should not have..."

a gentle kiss to the tip of his ear, and then to the scar upon his temple. Even that gentle touch made him remember that even he had paid a price.

I could not have done any less... He heard faintly in his mind.

"My heart..." he began, before her finger traced his dry lips.

She shook her head, No, don't...

She brought her hand laced with his to her heart before she leaned over and kissed him.

In the labyrinth...

The queen and a small band had breached the walls, riding through upon a fresh horse. Someone had retrieved the Goblin Prince before he could be trampled, pulling out the arrow. Now one of her personal guards held him in the saddle while he guided her. He did not know this is what Jareth wanted, to end this war. The walls seemed to shift and change, hindering their progress. Jaeren watched near helpless as the routes he knew vanished, seeming to funnel them into the nastier parts of the maze.

"It's toying with us..." He slurred, the poison starting to affect his speech.

The queen was not happy, as now and again archers would appear on the walls to pick off a few more of her guard.

"Lead us through, or your brother won't be the only one executed this day."

Jaeren pointed to an opening, they would go that way.


	38. twist and turn

The healer's tent...

Pen released Nuada's hand when he fell into a natural sleep. The healers were doing their best, and the king was improving. The head healer said her presence had done much to aid in their work as she kept his attention focused upon her while they had tended to the damage done by the queen's poisoning. She accepted the praise in stride, it would be a long time before he was going to be able to care for himself.

"...he should heal quickly, the poison is the major factor." The head healer said.

She nodded, "I will remain at his side..."

The head healer nodded, watching her fingers move in the arcane signs of the cant.

Some hours later...

The queen and her band were no further into the maze, it seemed to have twisted upon itself to trap them. Besides having her guards picked off, some had disappeared into shadows followed by chilling, wet crunching sounds. It appeared the Labyrinth had more defenses than she thought.

"Where now Goblin..." She asked Jaeren.

The goblin prince let out an intelligible murmur, the poison having robbed him of speech. He pointed to a solid wall.

"You are mad..."

Jaeren made the gesture again, they could go through.

"Very well..." She pointed at one of the remaining guards. "You go first..."

The guard trembled and obeyed, the wall parted as he approached it.

"You may save your hide yet, Goblin..." She said following close behind the guard.

Even in his deteriorating state, Jaeren knew the Maze was toying with them.

The healer's tent...

Nuada stirred, turning to look to the bedside. She was still there, her hand not far from his. He moved his hand to rest on top of hers, only to have it pulled away. Her hand moved to rest upon his cheek, her thumb brushing across the bone. He turned his head to kiss her palm. She gave him a slight smile.

"...How did I get here?" He asked softly.

"A better question would be Why..." Jareth said, frowning as he entered. "Go to break your fast, I will watch over him..."

Pen rose, stiff from sitting at Nuada's side. "I will return shortly..."

Jareth nodded, holding open the flap so she could exit.

"...She has no voice." Jareth said. "No is she likely to again..."

Nuada shook his head. "Lochain told me of her sacrifice, but why?"

"She did as her heart bade," Jareth said. "She was your heart, is she still?" The Goblin king frowned. "I saw her after you broke, she did not speak a word save when I asked her to perform for my court. Her heart was beyond broken.."

"I could not let her betrayal go," Nuada said, much too softly. "She would have killed me if I..."

"So you tore her out of the life she was making for herself, cursed the child in her womb..." Jareth hissed. "All because of an order that was never given..."

Nuada's hand curled into a weak fist, which Jareth suspected would have been sailing to his face if the High King had been stronger.

"And yet she remains as you left her, loving and loyal. Think Silverlance, could any other woman have loved you so fiercely as to sacrifice such a valuable gift..."

Nuada turned his head to the wall of the tent, Jareth was right no other would have given up such a gift for him.

"No..." He said. "There is not..."

Jareth could see the effect his words were having upon the high King, an effect he hoped would be a lasting one.

"I have half your army outside my gates," Jareth said. "All because of your wife."

Nuada frowned, "What reason would she have...Tam Lin..."

"Yes and more so his mother," Jareth said. "Lochain lost his life seeing her and your son's safe..."

The tent flap rustled, she had returned, a tray balanced upon her hands. Jareth took the tray from her hands so she could enter.

"There is a disturbance in the labyrinth..." She signed. "the fountain runs red..."

Jareth set the tray down "I will see what it is, do not worry yourself."

Nuada gave Jareth a look before turning his attention to Pen and the food she'd brought.

In the maze...

Only the queen and Jaeren remained the Goblin Prince near insensate from blood loss and poison. Jareth strode through one of the walls, a wicked grin on his face. This was only one of the places he planned to taunt her.

"Enjoying my Maze your majesty?" He purred.

"Where is she, you bastard." The queen hissed, still focused upon her hate.

"The Guild mistress is safely held in my castle, which you seem to have trouble finding..."

Jareth was amused, this was usually about the time he had runners begging him to show mercy.

"Tell me you bastard..."

Jareth grinned, showing off pointed teeth.

"You'll find my castle soon enough, your end waits there..." He said, sliding back through the wall. "Soon you won't have your guide...and all the better to play the game..."

The queen screamed in rage but dared not attempt to charge the wall, several of her men had passed through and become trapped in the walls.

The other side of the wall...

Jareth turned to Hoggel, the old dwarf grinned and pointed to the doors. Jareth raised an eyebrow, cruel perhaps but quite perfect. Hoggel led the small band of goblins away, they'd harass the Queen until she came to the doors and then let the Labyrinth funnel her toward the castle. They only needed a few more hours and the queen would meet her end.

The healer's tent...

Nuada stretched, trying to get some movement back into his stiffened limbs. The healers had quickly purged the poison from him, but it had left him achy and stiff. He turned his head to see Pen talking to one of the healers, trying to read what she was signing. He had not realized until now how calming her voice had been to his frayed psyche. She had given that up to keep him in the living side of the veil. He could only make out one or two words, but the quiet blush to her skin said the healer was flirting with her. He let out a growl, low and rumbling. The healer quickly got the hint and fled.

That was unfair... She signed. He was only flirting, and I've made it clear I am taken.

"How so, I do not see the ring about your finger..."

His snapping tone near screamed jealousy. Her body began to shake, at first, he thought it from anger until he saw the amusement in her eyes. She had not worn the ring since she ha moved into the Dublin Troll Market.

SO I have an orange-eyed monster on my hands...

"I am not jealous." He said, frowning.

Yes, my dear king, you are...I have not worn it in over two years.

Her answer surprised him, though he was sure that there had been no one else vying for her affections.

"How can you claim..." Then he saw it, the pendant hanging from the band at her throat. "You kept that..."

The sliver was tarnished, but the stone near glowed in the diffuse light of the tent.

Yes, I did. In memory of the stag lord...

It had been over a decade since he'd gifted it to her upon that Samhain night, not knowing he'd sired a son. Such things were proper gifts to the mothers of Royal children. He moved toward her slowly, still a bit unsteady, and pulled her into his arms.

"Stag I may have been, but the wolf consumed my heart..." He whispered.

She tried to "Say" something, he stopped her.

"No, don't. Just let me hold on to you." He stroked over her hair, frowning at the tent flaps. "I care not who passes by..."

She sighed against his skin, he still smelled of sickness but she could catch a faint whiff of his scent beneath it. She looked up into his face, his eyes were darkened with regret.

"...Your majesty...oh, Forgive me." The healer said as he entered to see them in their embrace. "King Jareth has a bath prepared for you..."

Nuada looked down at her and then at the healer.

"A bath would be most welcome..."

The healer nodded and gave directions to where the bath had been prepared.

A short time later...

Pen poured the scented water over Nuada's head, letting the water cascade down the silken strands of his hair. She took delight in the sound he made, one of pure male contentment. She set the pitcher down and went for the paste-like soap beside the tub.

"...I remember when you first did this..." He said, his eyes closed. "I must have smelled like a brewhouse..."

No, you smelled sick... came the faint echo. Just as you do now...

He knew it was difficult for her to use that method to communicate with him after so long, but it gave her a way to speak. He felt her fingers in his hair, working the soap down to the scalp. Her fingers paused behind his ears, perhaps expecting to find the plaits she'd fastened into his hair.

"I removed them the day I became king..." He said softly.

Her fingers continued working through the strands, pausing only to apply more soap. He found her silence to his statement disturbing.

"...it displeases you?"

More silence, only the methodical working of her fingers and then more water.

He turned, hair still slicked with soap to look at her.

"I asked..." he growled, "if it displeases you..."

Is not my silence answer enough... the echo was harsh. I will leave you to finish on your own.

She rose and left, leaving him to call an attendant to finish with his bath.

A few hours later...

Nuada frowned when Pen did not come to the quarters Jareth had provided for him. He asked for directions to the Nursery, his anger simmering below the surface. He found her with Dian cecht and Tam Lin in her lap, "reading" to them. The elder boy looked up and froze, pressing closer to his mother. The look in her eyes told him he was not welcome and he turned and left only to run into Jareth.

"...She knows you struck Tam Lin, and you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with Dian cecht." Jareth said, having moved them both to his study. "...some things cannot be forgiven."

He turned and looked at Jareth. "Then I shall never know my sons..."

"At this point, it is highly likely," Jareth said. "You angered her somehow this day..."

"I removed the plaits she fastened into my hair, destroyed the clasps at my wedding feast..."

Jareth frowned "An unwise choice, but what is done, is done."

He looked down into the snifter Jareth had shoved into his hand moments after they had arrived.

"What she did cost her." Jareth said. "You did not see her after what she had done, she could have been a wraith for all she spoke. She intended to make a life for herself and her child in the Dublin market, you took that from her..." The goblin king took a swallow of brandy. "Cursed her child even before he met the world..."

The glass cracked in his hand he was holding it so hard, then it shattered; driving glass and the pungent liquor into his skin. He made a noise of pain as the shards fell to the carpet.

"...Careful your majesty, you could hurt yourself further..."

He felt unsteady upon his feet, the image of the Goblin King blurring before his eyes. He only saw Jareth come toward him as everything faded to black.


	39. Time runs down

A day later...

Nuada groaned as he awakened, his eyes opening to adjust to the dim light of the lantern a small distance from his bedside. He moved his hand, wincing at the pull of stitches. Gentle fingers touched his forehead, he turned to see her.

"...How long?"

He did not know if it would refer to hours or days, he had been a fool for crushing the glass out of anger.

A few hours... the echo was soft. The brandy would have done you better if you had consumed it.

He wanted to find amusement in her words, but there was none.

You're in the guest quarters of the castle...

He shivered, her fingers brushed over his forehead again. He felt so tired.

"Our children..."

Safely away now...

He wanted to ask more, wither he would be able to see them again but her gentle stroking called him to sleep. He remembered her doing this so long ago when his mind was too full to sleep.

"...don't..."

I will be here when you wake again, just rest now...

His eyes drifted closed and the ache dulled enough for him to drift back into sleep.

In the maze...

Jaeren began to laugh, eyes bright with his own death. He and the queen had been herded toward the center, the most elite of the guard had been picked off with a wicked glee by the creatures of the Labyrinth. All that was left was himself and the queen, now at the edge of the walls. It had taken them four days to reach this far, he'd fallen from the saddle only moments ago.

"...Now where to, goblin..."

The goblin prince continued to laugh, his eyes unseeing save for the hallucination of the poison. She spun around and smacked him. He looked at her, his laughter turned sinister.

"It will eat your heart...the rotted shell it is..." It was the first intelligible thing he'd said in days. "Beware the roses...beware the roses."

She slapped him again, trying to snap him out of the poison haze when Jareth stepped through the wall.

"It is no use, your majesty, he is far beyond feeling any pain." The Goblin King said. "...It won't be long now. You are almost halfway there, perhaps I should acquire you another guide..."

She spun and attempted to throw a punch at him, he caught it easily.

"I would not do that, your majesty..." he gave her an evil grin, showing off his pointed teeth.

"The roses will feast..." Jaeren shouted.

Jareth smiled, the queen would be herded toward the throne room first.

"Beware the rose that blooms gold..."

Jareth shoved the queen aside to deliver a kick to Jaeren, breaking his jaw.

"Enough of that..." Jareth said. "I will see you in my throne room, your majesty..."

He faded back into the wall, leaving the queen with Jaeren already dead.

Jareth's study...

Pen was admiring the tightly rolled golden rosebuds in a vase upon Jareth's desk. She reached out to touch one when Jareth appeared and pulled her hand away.

"No Guild mistress, those are Golden Goblin," he said. "A subspecies of Rosa Carnivora..."

Carnivorous roses said to have grown up around the castle of "sleeping Beauty" to prevent any suitor from reaching the princess. She had heard of them being planted in Sidhe gardens to ward off thievery.

Did you plant them in your garden?

"No, a very vicious minded predecessor had cuttings from the original rose. He developed The subspecies from there." He said. "I have to wear heavy gloves to pick and tend them, they like the taste of Royal blood. They are quite a problem if one does not know where they are." He moved around his desk to sit down. "But for us, it will be a solution..."

The queen?

"Yes." He said. "I called you here to tell you Jaeren is now dead."

She nodded, There will be much to do. What of the battle?

"Half of them surrendered when they heard we had the king..."

She smiled. Then we are halfway to ending this war...still another rages.

Jareth nodded. "...It will take me many days before I am "Jareth" again."

And it will be many moons before I am more than "guild mistress".

The goblin king nodded and set a glass before her, reaching into a desk drawer.

"There is a liquor that is distilled from the Roses." He set a small vial upon the table. "One drop grants a weakened state to whoever consumes it More than one brings paralysis, aching limbs, and swollen joints. This sounds familiar, does it not?"

She considered what she had seen of Nuada before she had put him into reverie.

Nuada's symptoms...is there an antidote?

"The light side healers say there is one, they will provide one." he pushed the vial toward her. "Keep it, you may find it useful."

I am not so vicious as his queen, Goblin king. She rose. Inform me when you have her trapped in the throne room.

"Do you not deny that you would have been if Lochain had asked it of you?"

What I would have been does not matter now, thank you for the information.

"Forgive me, I have too long worn this guise," Jareth said. "I forget it is only a persona to frighten the runners." He looked at her. "When will you tell him you still have some voice left"

"When it is necessary..." She croaked, her voice rough as any man's. "I can offer him no more than myself..."

She had been hiding it for days now, her voice was healing but it would never be as before.

"You cannot hide it forever..."

"I know, my silence will serve him better until this war comes to an end." She said, wincing.

"Do not fear, I will keep your secret," Jareth said. "You should be getting back to him..."

She nodded, then turned. "...once the queen has been defeated..."

"It will not be long..."

She headed to the door, there was still much to be done.

In the guest chambers a short time later...

Nuada sat upon the edge of the bed, his bandaged hand in his lap. Pen had been there when he'd awakened, just as she had promised. She was now curled with her back to him upon the other side of the bed, asleep. He had said nothing when she'd moved around to climb into the over large bed. For a moment he saw again the young girl he'd bedded unknowing of her species or her true roll in his life. He rubbed his chest with his uninjured hand, he could feel the ache returning.

"...Why did my father choose you..." He whispered to her sleeping form. "was I that deep into madness he would not have trusted me to rule without that safeguard."

He could almost hear Wink's voice and feel the ogre smack him upside the head, "Would you have taken any other..."

He let out a sigh, "No my friend, I would not have..."

He rose from the bed and made his slow way toward a chair by the hearth.

He was there only moments before a quiet knock turned his attention to the doorway. He murmured for whoever was knocking to enter. A young elf with dark hair stood in the doorway.

"Are you decent your majesty?"

Nuada rose to retrieve a silk shirt, he'd not removed the loose cotton pants he'd been dressed in earlier.

"I am..."

The young elf entered, his eyes were a shade of lavender unknown among the Sidhe. The color spoke of Drow ancestry, but only common in one line. He wondered if the young elf even knew that his blood was not pure sidhe.

"Forgive the intrusion, there is a member of my house who wishes to speak to you." The young elf said softly.

Nuada nodded, wondering why this young elf had been sent.

"He may enter in peace..." Nuada said.

The shadow behind the elf sprouted the same lavender eyes and stepped forward. Nuada motioned for the Drow to sit. The drow eyed Pen's sleeping form and then back to Nuada.

"I did not know you kept a bed mate, High King."

Nuada bristled, "The lady is a dear companion...I have relinquished my bed so she may sleep in peace."

"As you say." The drow said.

Nuada did not think much of Drow, but this one...the fact of his line alone commanded respect.

"What does one of the last ranger's descendants wish of me?

The drow laughed softly, the very color of his eyes gave away his ancestry.

"Only a moment of your time." The drow said. "And I do not wish to wake your companion..."

A small vial appeared in the Drow's hand and offered.

"The antidote to Rosa Carnivora your queen was using upon you."

Nuada's mouth dropped open, which explained the heaviness in his limbs and why his joints had ached. His hand trembled as he took the vial, opened it and drank its continence. The Drow seemed pleased and rose.

"One last piece of advice, hold on dear to your companion. Humans are fragile things, brief sparks to light the darkness."

Nuada looked at Pen, and then at the drow, who faded back into the shadows.

"You must forgive my cousin, he is much like our ancestor." The young elf said. "I will see that you and your companion are not disturbed further this night."

Nuada nodded, looking back at the fire, banked low for the night.

At the outer walls of the Goblin city...

The queen, dirty and tattered brandished her sword at any being that came within blade length of her. She'd left Jaeren's corpse back in the corridors of the maze, food for the nastier creatures. She was being herded toward the castle now, taunted by arrows that nearly missed or the blasted Goblin king who would appear out of walls to deliver some cutting remark. Anger and hate-fueled her as she headed closer to the walls. She was going to tear that little whore's heart out and devourer it whole.

The Guest chambers...

Pen rose quietly to see Nuada sleeping in the chair by the hearth. He looked so peaceful, almost harmless in his sleep. She knew better, she'd seen him spin around and swing at another elf who had made some remark about her while she carried Tam Lin.

"...Time cannot be turned back." Jareth whispered as he entered. "You have a short time, the queen is at the walls of the city."

Pen nodded. I will rouse him and prepare...

"She will be "escorted" to the throne room," Jareth said. "It would be wise to make it clear to the queen he is no longer hers..."

Jareth hoped she would understand what he meant.

She nodded. "I have no clasps to secure them."

Jareth held out two clasps, made of silver and the same stone in her pendant.

"They were Lochain's," Jareth said. "They were among the things he left for you, I thought now an appropriate time to give them to you."

She held her hand out for the clasps, Jareth poured them into her hand.

"we will be in the throne room..."

Jareth nodded, leaving her to make her preparations.

At the Gates of the Goblin city...

The queen pounded upon the gates, screaming to be allowed in. Hoggel stood on the rampart above the gate. Jareth's orders were to keep her there for as long as they could to allow time to prepare. He sneered down at her, taunting as she screamed in rage. The flap of wings and the light touch of boots upon the stones signaled Jareth's arrival.

"Let her through Hogwart..." Jareth said. "Things are almost ready."

"Youse the boss.." Hoggel said. "And it's Hoggel..."

"Whatever Hogweird..." Jareth said turning back into an owl and sailing toward the castle.

Hoggel fumed for a moment and gave a signal for the gates to open, the gauntlet was about to be run.

In the guest-chamber...

Nuada watched Pen dress, the formal robes of the guild mistress being donned with slowness. He wondered what was going through her mind, his was still filled with the regrets of the last two years.

Why are you starring at me? She sent as she turned around. Is something amiss or not proper for the companion of the High King?

"No, I was wondering what thoughts you have at this moment."

she came up and ran her fingers into his hair, sighing as the strands brushed against her skin.

That this will soon be over, and we can make peace.

"You know as well as I..."

she nodded, It will last as long as there are those who keep the lessons alive.

"Did Jareth tell you what he had planned?"

She shook her head, she wasn't about to tell him they were going to feed bloody chunks of the queen to the roses.

"What becomes of her is my choice, she is my wife." He said, catching her hands. "But you are my heart."

She didn't want to tell him that heart stopped beating two years ago in Dublin when he'd torn her from her life and cursed their child.

"I was a fool to think I could cast you aside easily as a cloak." he looked into her eyes. "When this is over..."

she shook her head again. No, Do not make that decision for me.

He paused and let her go. "It is not a hard one to make...For our children."

She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head.

Do not pull them into this, you broke Tam Lin's trust and denied Dian cecht...You have no right...

"No right woman, how can you say..." He stopped, the argument would only delay the inevitable. "We will do this, then we will deal with what lays between us."

She nodded, then held out the clasps Jareth had given her. He cupped her hand and folded her fingers over them.

"They are for your husband, and I am not he..." He said, leaning forward to kiss her temple.

He turned from her and did not see the single tear flowing down her face.


	40. snicker snee

Outside the Goblin castle...

The queen was surprised when no one challenged her at the door, they simply creaked open to allow her passage. She kept her sword at the ready, eager to spill the blood of all those who stood in her way. She would make the bitch break the reverie and take her head before Nuada's eyes. Then she would slaughter the two abominations before driving her father's dagger into his heart.

Oh yes, she thought, That is what I will do...

She continued on, the castle creaking as it herded her toward the throne room.

The throne room...

Jareth watched Pen and Nuada come down the stairs into the room proper. There was a slowness to Pen's steps, he knew those movements well enough. He'd seen her move that way after she'd returned from the Guildhall.

The bastard must have broken her heart again, Jareth thought. Perhaps I should feed him to the roses as well.

She caught his eye and shook her head, he took it to mean "No, my choice..."

I keep forgetting she could spill his life away with a single note, even with her voice ruined. Jareth thought as he stepped aside to let Nuada take his throne. If he breaks her heart, will she.

"It is almost time..."

Nuada nodded, looking over at Pen, who shifted to be slightly behind Jareth. He put his hand to his chest, the ache was sharp as she moved from his sight. It was a reminder that even a fragile bond bound him tighter than he knew.

"Are you well enough for this?" Jareth asked, noticing Nuada's reaction to Pen's Movement.

"It is nothing Goblin." He said. "Bring her before me..."

Jareth nodded, it was time to end this war.

A short time later...

The queen stood outside the throne room, the doors opened. She marched through, thinking it strange the room was shaded in darkness. Upon the throne sat a figure, she could barely make out the scowl in the darkness. The light gradually began to brighten the room revealing more figures next to the throne.

"Where is that little human bitch..." She demanded of the figure. "Where is she goblin..."

The figure smiled, motioning to the side.

"I would take your words carefully, woman." A voice from the shadows. "You slander a dear companion of this court."

"You would defend a filthy human..."

the lights came up a bit more, slowly revealing the figure upon the throne.

"I defend who I will, wife..." Nuada hissed.

The sword fell from the queen's hand, she had left her husband in the royal tent in an unbreakable reverie. Now he was before her, appearing quite well

"Turn to flee and you will be cut down before you even take two steps."

She turned to see three goblins and two Light side Drow with crossbows, then to the side of the throne. A small crossbow peaked from the opening of Pen's cloak. Nuada raised an eyebrow.

"It appears the Guild Mistress may have a score to settle with you as well as I." He said. "For the life of her predecessor..."

Pen took careful steps close to Nuada, keeping the crossbow trained upon the queen. She wasn't about to let the bitch get away, no matter what Nuada would say.

"You took that whore into your bed, haven't you?" The queen snapped.

"I only see one whore, and she is before me," Nuada said. "The Guild mistress has not shared my bed."

The queen began to fume, reaching for the sword she'd dropped. The twang of a string and the thunk of a bolt inches from her hand made her back off. She looked up with hard eyes.

"I challenge her..." The queen hissed. "Trial by combat..."

Nuada looked at Pen, who reached up to release the clasp upon her cloak. The heavy material fell to the ground, revealing the more close-fitting night gear. She'd cast an illusion that she had been donning her guild robes. He wondered how the illusion had escaped his keen senses, then again he had let his anger get the better of him and noticed little else.

"Do you accept this challenge?" Jareth asked, turning to Nuada. "Will you allow the Guild mistress her vengeance?"

"I grant it, fight well."

Pen nodded, setting the crossbow down. She reached behind her to un-sheath her blades. The sound of mithril iron sliding from the single scabbard rang through the throne room. She turned and pointed one blade at the queen, no words were necessary; the queen was hers.

"Pick up your blade..." Nuada hissed.

The queen snatched up her sword and charged, Pen caught it between both of hers and kicked the queen in the chest. The queen stumbled backward, hissing at the blow. Pen took slow steps forward, her blades at the ready.

The sound of steel upon Mithril iron rang, the two women were mismatched; Pen had the advantage of long training. The queen, however, had rage and near madness upon her side. These things would make the queen sloppy but also she could get damn lucky. A near slashing movement made Pen back up, only to barely avoid a swung fist. The queen pressed, Pen defended.

With a single note, Pen could end this, but she wanted her vengeance. She kept seeing Lochain impaled upon the queen's dagger. She let that fuel her, temper her anger. She was backing up, drawing the queen in to run her through.

"Not so confident, are you bitch." The queen near screamed but did not see Pen's stance change.

Pen grinned at her, the split in her lip from a lucky blow bleeding again. Her first trainer in the sword had been a venerable Drow weapons master. She knelt and spun, aiming for the queen's knees. A dirty trick but it had been the first her teacher had pulled to demonstrate that not everyone fought fair. The queen stumbled backward.

Nuada watched, remembering. She had been so clumsy with the blades, used to their weight but not how they could move. He had been angry at her when she insisted upon learning even though she was great with their son. Unfounded, he Feared those blades would seek his heart and so pushed her aside. Now all he saw was a warrior, more than a match for himself, more than a match for his former queen. He watched Pen pin his former queen to the marble and hold one of those deadly keen blades to her throat. What came next surprised him.

"Yield," Pen hissed, her voice still rough but clear. "Yield or I end you now."

"Enough," Jareth shouted. "The High Queen has lost..."

Nuada stood, and descended the steps of the dais. He only saw two combatants, one who fought out of loyalty; the other who fought for an imagined slight and his destruction. He watched Pen rise, her blade still trained upon the former queen's throat.

"What do you plan to do with my former queen?" Nuada asked, not turning to look at Jareth.

"I have a carnivorous rose in my garden..."

Nuada turned, a slight smirk on his face. It would be fitting, the very thing used to near take his life used to deliver punishment.

"I'm sure your goblins can see to the feeding, I have much to discuss with the Guild Mistress."

Jareth nodded, snapping his fingers. The former queen would keep in an oubliette until it was feeding time.

Nuada waited until Pen had sheathed her blades before retrieving her cloak. He placed it around her shoulders. She turned and shook her head, walking away.

"So you will just walk away." He said, catching her arm. "You will not even tell me why."

"You made it clear I was nothing to you...our children were worth only the gold you could spare." She said, her voice gruff and strained. "You chose to believe I would turn and run my blade through your body...rather than listen to that hollow thing you call a heart."

She wrenched free of his grasp and continued on, she would stay only long enough to see good foster for Tam Lin. Dian cecht would be returning with her to the guildhall.

Three days later...

Jareth and Nuada stood in the formal garden, the former queen bound hand, and foot. Shallow cuts had been scored upon her arms. Long vines spiked with thorns snaked out to encircle the woman; it was from there the cries of terror and pain began. The vines tore bloody chunks from her flesh, each disappearing into the bramble of thorns and blooms. The new budding blooms grew and bloomed gold as Nuada's eyes as they consumed the queen. Neither man looked away, they would witness and know the deed was done.

Another part of the castle grounds...

Pen sat with Tam Lin and Dian cecht, reading them "the Hobbit". She had requested her own rooms in the castle after defeating the High queen. She did not want to lay eyes upon Nuada, the High King. The faint sounds of the former queen's execution reached her ears. Tam Lin turned his head to her.

"Mathair?" He said when she'd paused. "What is that sound?"

"It is ok little raven, it is just the wind..."

He accepted this if his mother was lying it was for a reason.

"Will I have to go with Fathair again?"

"No little Raven, you won't." She said. "He won't be a part of our lives anymore..."

Tam Lin leaned in close to his mother. "why, because he hit me?"

"No little raven, the war isn't over yet and he still needs to be king."

"Why?"

Pen could see he was curious about why she didn't have his father around.

"Because his people made him king, he will have to rule them."

"Like Jareth..."

"Yes like King Jareth..." She said. "Now let's get back to where Bilbo was sneaking into smog's lair..."

Tam Lin lay his head on her shoulder and once again was listening to the tale she told.

The nursery, late that night...

Pen gently pulled the blanket over Dian cecht, assuring the little elfling he was safe. She tucked him in and then did the same for Tam Lin. She felt Nuada watching, he'd come the last three nights and stood in the shadows while she tucked the children into their beds. She got Tam Lin to calm down, assuring him that there was no demon in the shadows. She finished tucking in her little raven and then turned to his father.

"...how long have you stood there?" She asked, stepping away from Tam Lin's bed.

He gave a soft laugh at the irony of those words, so often said to Wink when he'd lost himself in the rhythm of training.

"Long enough." He said, stepping up behind her. "Will you not reconsider, with her gone no one will say he is not of my blood."

She turned, shaking her head. "You have a war still to wage, not all will welcome the peace or the lessons you will offer."

"Will you?" He said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"You know I can't, not with both your kingdom and my Guild in pieces."

He sighed, leaning to kiss her forehead.

"...my heart..." He whispered softly into her ear. "come to my bed tonight, please."

She shook her head. "I cannot..."

She pulled away from him and made her way out of the nursery.

Two weeks later...

Nuada asked Pen each night to come to his bed after she had tucked their children into theirs. She refused him each time. Now he was at her door, seeking her bed. His knock was hesitant, fearing her rejection. The door opened.

"May I enter?"

She simply nodded, stepping aside so that he could come in.

"Are you dining alone tonight?"

"I was..."

Her voice was stronger, but even he knew she would not sing like an angel again.

"I thought since you did not wish to have my bed..."

"You would have mine." She said. "I don't think you would..."

He pulled her against him, holding her. He wasn't going to let her go.

"No words." He said. "Not tonight."

She pulled away, shaking her head.

"You made your choice when you locked me in a filthy hole for four months, you would have murdered our child...leave."

His mouth worked, but he stopped. She was right, he had done those things. She had every right to demand he leave.

"As you wish, my heart." He said.

He turned and left. He was well down the corridor before she pressed herself against the door and wept.


	41. bridges uncrossed

A month later, in the royal palace of Bethmora...

Nuada frowned as he sat listening to his generals tell him of the cities they'd occurred in his absence. The humans were becoming more ruthless, arming themselves with iron and guns. He had seen too many die of iron sickness since his return from Jareth's kingdom a month ago. He'd gathered his army and left shortly after Pen had told him to leave her.

"...there is a delegation at our gates, your majesty." The chamberlain said. "Humans..."

He rose stiffly, the ache in his chest near doubling him over. It had been so since his return to Bethmora. It often struck when he made any sudden movement, but could not say where it truly originated. He remembered when it had happened before, both times when he'd been in conflict with his little singer.

"Do you wish me to send them away?" the Chamberlain asked. "If you are Ill...

He held his hand to his heart. "No, I will see them..."

He tried to block out the pain, not wanting the humans to see him weak. He would not let the council see him weak, or they would be demanding he abdicate in favor of his Sidhe born son.

The delegation was escorted into the throne room. Nuada stood there, ready to greet them showing no sign of the discomfort he'd been feeling moments before. The delegation head approached and bowed, showing proper respect to a monarch. He inclined his head to acknowledge the bow.

"...Why have you come?" Nuada said, cutting off the man's attempt to begin a pompous speech.

"To the heart of the matter, we come asking you to cease this war."

"As I expected." he descended the steps. "But will you learn the lessons this has wrought."

The delegation head's mouth dropped open, he had been told the High King would protest such a suggestion.

"Y-your Majesty?" The man stammered.

"Lessons..." Nuada said, approaching the man. "That should have been taught and remembered."

The delegation guards advanced, the man stopped them. The High King paused a foot from the delegation head.

"Lessons we will teach our...our..." Nuada said, the ache cutting into him. "Children."

"Your Majesty..." The Chamberlain said, reaching his king just as Nuada collapsed. "Healers..."

The delegation was stunned, wondering what had just happened. One moment the Sidhe king appeared whole, the next he collapsed.

"The audience is over..." The Chamberlain shouted. "The king has taken ill..."

The delegation was escorted out along with the nobles of the court. The healers came to examine the King, only coming to the conclusion that he was indeed ill. Orders were given to bring the King back to his chambers and see him comfortable. It was shortly after the fever began.

Nuada faded in and out of consciousness while his body burned, delirium filling his conscious moments. He first called for his father, then Wink and then Nuala begging their forgiveness. The healers alternately tried to cool his body and then warm it as chills took hold.

"...This is not good." The head healer told his subordinates.

"He keeps asking for the dead...it is as if he sees ghosts instead of the living." another said. "We are at a loss to explain it..."

"What do we do then?"

"Summon one of the singers, they could find out what is ailing the king."

The other healers nodded in agreement, one running off to send for a messenger.

The Guild Hall...

Pen looked over the paperwork scattered across the desk that once had been Lochain's. She almost swore she could see him still sitting there. For the brief time she'd actually known him, he had treated her as his daughter. She had never known she'd been his heir from the start.

"Gods..." She whispered as she looked over some of the reports upon the desk. "Some of this must be years old..."

She began to organize the desk with a single-minded intensity.

She had been at the hall since departing Jareth's kingdom a month ago quick on the heels of Nuada's army. She had not wanted to enter this room until she was sure that she could handle the emotions that had seeped into the woodwork. Now she would have to make the room presentable for interviewing new singers.

In the month since her return, she had overseen the executions of no less than a quarter of the old guild. Each had left her feeling hollow, as those who remained loyal came to speak with her. There was also the matter of the new crop of apprentices begging entrance into the guild. She rubbed her temples after clearing the last of the paperwork. Lochain may have been a good leader of the guild, but when it came to paperwork it appeared he was sorely lacking. A soft knock drew her attention to the doorway.

"Guild Mistress, there is an emissary from Bethmora, he has asked to speak to you personally."

She rose from the desk, "I will greet him in the reception room."

"As you wish, Guild Mistress..."

She singed and headed toward the reception room, wondering what Nuada could have wanted to have sent an emissary to speak with her personally.

The emissary was frowning when she entered, he had traveled far and like most of the court did not like to be kept waiting. She gestured for him to take a seat.

"...Your predecessor..."

"My predecessor is dead, thanks to your former queen." She said, demonstrating her own annoyance. "What is the king's pleasure?"

The Emissary frowned, he'd been sent to acquire a singer and return to the place. He would push for the Guild's head herself to come if possible.

"The High King is ill, a high fever, calling for those who are dead." He frowned. "He collapsed before a delegation of...humans."

She heard the contempt, the malice. It seemed he was blaming the human's presence for the King's collapse.

"What would you have of me?"

"The healers request one of your singers...to find what ills have been visited upon him."

Pen knew exactly what ailed the king, but she would not voice it to one who would not understand. The denial of the bond and the scaring over his heart were taking their toll. It did not help that they were at grave odds.

"There is no healer that can help your king, and any of the guild will tell you the same."

"Then he is to die?"

She shook her head. "No, he will not. He probably has been suffering for weeks, the strain of rule made it worse." She paused. "Bring him here, quiet and rest will do much to ease it."

"How am I do believe that rest and quiet will do what healers cannot."

She fixed him with her evergreen gaze. "The psychical is only a symptom, it has much to do with his spirit. Here it can heal..."

The man frowned, turned and headed toward the door.

"...Prepare proper chambers," she said to her assistant. "King Nuada will be gracing us with his presence, soon."

The assistant nodded, hurrying off to fill the Guild Mistress' orders.

Four days later...

Pen escorted four royal guards as they bore a very delirious Nuada upon a litter through the corridors of the Guildhall. She opened the door to a suite of rooms and motioned toward the bed, which was already turned down. The waiting healers were gentle as they laid the pale king onto the cool linen. The guards turned to take up their posts, two within the room, two outside.

She waited until the healers had Nuada comfortable before she went to touch him. Her fingers met warmth and damp. He turned his head to her, his fever bright eyes widened and words in Gaelic flowed from his lips. She knew those words, they held so much faded meaning for her. He tried to turn his body, to face her.

"No, be still..." she whispered softly, pressing him back to the linen. "You need to rest."

"My heart..." He whispered. "come to stop the beat of mine..."

"No beloved, you must rest." She said, looking over at the guards as she laid her hand upon his arm.

His hand came to cup her face, "I belong to you..."

Suddenly his hand slid away, and his eyes closed. She pulled the needle from his arm, she'd prepared the sedative some time ago and touching him had been the perfect act to inject it into him. She rose from the bedside.

"He will sleep for several hours, I will see to him." She said.

The healers nodded and filed out of the room.

Hours later...

Pen prepared another syringe, she would keep Nuada sedated for as long as possible. She had not told the emissary that the King had been ill for months before his collapse. She had known when she'd brought him out of reverie that it had been too soon. Whatever the gods had done, he'd still been fragile in a way few would know. Her rejection had not helped, she couldn't forgive him for his actions toward her leading up to Dian cecht's birth.

She watched his eyelids flutter as she set the needle into his skin and slowly depressed the plunger. He made a soft sound as the sedative took him again. She laid her forehead against his, her eyes closed tight. She loved him still, despite who he had become to lead the Sidhe and take his place as High King.

"Finish healing," She whispered, tears pricking at her eyes. "Come back to me whole."

If he heard her, it was only as a distant echo.

Somewhere between the living and the dead...

Nuada sat with his knees pulled to his chest, staring out into the mists as the warm glow hovered above him. It pulsed softly, indicating his heart was still beating. He had not been to this place since he and his sister had taken ill as children. This time, however, there was no solace as it had been then, now he was alone.

He looked at his hand, pale as moonlight. It had touched many things, from the soft skin of a lover to the fragile life within the womb. He ached, he'd done so for what seemed an age. He watched shadows slither along his skin. The Gods had marked him, made him whole but alone. He could remember seeing two of the warm glow, both pulsing to a soft rhythm. The second pulse had born a name, Nuala. It was gone now, cold stone in the earth.

He tried not to think of that loss as he saw the other glow, slightly out of step with his own. He had tried to touch it many times, getting close enough to ease the ache but it would always pull away and he would be left gasping in pain. He rose and tried again to touch that glow, a soft tendril caressed his hand. He stared up into the glow, another tendril slid to trace the mark upon his face. He remembered that gesture, it had always been hers. He wanted so much to touch it, he lifted his hand...

Days after Nuada's arrival...

Pen wrung out a cloth and laid it across Nuada's forehead. The words he had said played again and again in her mind. He had used the one endearment she had always thought a bit too slavish, even as enamored with her as he had been. She had come to learn what madness did to one of the Sidhe, it twisted and broke all they were. She knew it was not quite madness that had fed Nuada's hate, it was the lessons he had learned watching his people slaughtered by those ignorant of what they destroyed.

She knew if she had met him under other circumstances, she would have died with the millions of humans his armies had already slaughtered. The weight of so much blood was slowly being realized by both sides as crops sprouted with strange stains and shapes in their branches and roots. A horrid price would be paid when harvest came, too many plants and trees had already been watered by blood.

She watched his eyelids flutter, the latest round of sedatives was wearing off. His hand reached up to her, catching her hand. She paused, his touch was light as if she'd pull away from him. Whatever had happened in the drug-induced twilight, his breathing was hitched and his eyes were wide with fear.

"...Don't send me away again." He whispered, coherent for the first time in days. "So weak..."

She used her free hand to brush at his sweat-damp hair. He turned to her, his face etched with a kind of fear.

"Go back to sleep." She said, brushing her fingers over his temple. "The weakness will pass..."

His eyes slowly closed, and his hitched breathing evened into a natural rhythm.


	42. In the kingdom of the blind

Four days later...

Nuada sat propped up with several pillows as the healers checked him over. He remembered little of what had transpired in his delirium. He tried to keep Pen in sight as the healers moved around him. It had taken two days after he'd awakened to break his fever and two more before the healers had given permission for thin broths and morsels of bread.

"...It will be a few more days." The head healer said. "Whatever your illness it has fast disappeared while you have been here."

He could only nod, the ache sharpened when Pen vanished behind a screen that shielded the washbasin on the other side of the room. It eased when she returned, he remembered the first time it had happened, it had been months before Tam Lin's birth. The last, he could have sworn she had been with him, but he'd woke from his fever and she was nowhere to be seen. There had only been Wink. She came to sit beside him, her fingers brushing his hair back.

"...You did not tell them." He said softly when the healers were gone.

"No, I did not." She said. "What would that have done, perhaps dragged me from my home to sit at your bedside with a weapon at my back."

"I would not have let them." He said. "Only Wink knew how strongly we were bonded." He looked at her. "He found you...the last time."

"Yes, Master Wink found me and brought me to your lair." She said. "I had not seen you closely in five years. I stayed with you until the fever broke, and then left Wink to tend to you."

He looked at her more intensely, she had changed in the last month. He could see new lines upon her face and a hollow look in her evergreen eyes. It appeared he wasn't the only one to feel the strain of ruling.

"...Why did you stay at my side...I..."

She put a finger to his lips, shaking her head.

"No words..." She said. "Too much and too many have been said."

He focused his amber eyes onto her green ones, her hand cupping his cheek and his came to do the same.

Neither knew how long they remained like that, but the ache in Nuada's chest all but vanished. This was what their bond required, contact and touch. Too long without and damage could be done to both. Pen had known the moment he'd collapsed he would need her touch and she his. She laid her forehead against his, bringing them closer.

Her hand moved, traveling down to come to rest over his heart. She could feel the two scars, one bisecting the other. His remained where it was as his free hand came to cover hers.

"Sleep in my bed tonight." He whispered. "My heart..."

"You know I cannot..." She said, softly. "You have done too much to be forgiven..."

"Bed me then." He said. "Let it be I..."

"Shush...no." She said. "I will not reduce a king to a bed warmer."

He found slight humor in that statement, but in many circles, it would be true if she bedded him now.

"What if it is something I want to be, to warm your bed..."

"Do not talk like that, your people need..."

"Their king." He finished for her. "For this moment, I am not a king only a man seeking forgiveness from his bonded."

She pulled away slightly, shaking her head.

"No matter what, You are their king.."

They fell silent after that, for no words could bridge the gap between them.

Several days later...

Pen pulled her hand away from Nuada's chest, they had spent the last few days just touching. They would hold their positions for hours on end. He would fall asleep with her hand upon his heart, she would slip off to sleep elsewhere. But, she would return in the middle of the night to watch him sleep for an hour or two before returning to her own bed.

His sleep always seemed fitful, once ending in a nightmare that left him sobbing like a child. She had held him until the sobs subsided He had clung to her as his body shook. She soothed him back to sleep, rocking him as she often did Dian cecht. That night she stayed at his side, forgoing her own bed. She was left wondering what could have caused him to wake in such a state. That dawn she asked.

"...I don't remember." He said. "I only remember waking and your arms around me."

She could see the wisps of fear still lingering in his eyes. He remembered more than he claimed.

"I will have to depart soon." He said, changing the subject. "I hope you will consider coming to visit Bethmora..."

She gave him a weary smile, leaning forward to touch her forehead to his.

That had been two days ago, and she worried now about how much damage had been done. He seemed only to have strength in her presence, and the members of the council took a keen note of it. She did her best to downplay her importance, all the better to stay in the Guildhall. She did not want to be dragged to Bethmora like a prize heifer.

"...They should not speak of you as if you are a trinket." He said, leaning against her. "You still will not bed me."

"...You know I won't." She said.

"What will it take?"

"A few fallen stars...your living heart upon a platter perhaps.."

He was silent for a few moments, weighing his words.

"...I would willingly give you such." He whispered into her hair.

"Nuada, don't." She said. "If you wish to gain me back, win Tam Lin's trust, hold Dian cecht...acknowledge him."

Right now he could do neither, both were still raw spots on his conciseness.

"Tell me how I should so such when you deny me them."

"Tam Lin is fostered in Maynooth." She said. "Dian cecht sleeps two rooms away..." She rose. "I will leave you to make the choice of which son you chose..."

He watched her walk out of the room, leaving him with the burning ache and a heavy heart.

Some hours later...

Pen returned to a sight she could never have expected. Nuada was softly humming a lullaby, Dian cecht against his shoulder. He looked up to her and then back to the elfling curled in his arms, murmuring soft words.

"...I did not know you could sing." She said, gently taking the child from him.

He surrendered the child greatly, his arms ached. He'd held the child for all the time she had been gone.

"Not well as you, but enough." He said, he looked overly pale.

"Are you Ok?"

He shook his head.

"Go back to bed, I will tuck him in."

Again he shook his head. The curse he'd laid, it had been drawn back into him.

"Take him out of my sight..." He hissed.

She was slightly surprised at his tone.

"Have the sense to realize woman I am not myself, take him out of my sight..."

She turned and carried Daincecht from the room.

She stopped and held Dian cecht close when she heard Nuada scream in agony. She handed her son to one of the nursery maids and hurried back to Nuada. She found him with blood covering his fingers and a jelly-like object crush in his hand. There was blood streaming down from a now-empty socket.

"Nuada..." She rushed to him. "What have you done..."

He didn't answer but reached for his face with his bloodied fingers. She caught his hand, he was attempting to claw out his own eyes.

"Enough...it is enough." She said. "Healers!"

She pried his hand open, the ruin of what was once his right eye lay flattened in the palm of his left hand. She was horrified, he kept trying to reach his face to complete what he started.

"Why?" She asked. "What happened..."

He did not answer but looked up at her with his one remaining eye, tears brimmed from it. He finally pried his hand loose and touched her face with it. It left a bloody streak upon her cheek and tunic as it fell to rest against his chest.

"My heart..."

She was too stunned to speak, as the healers rushed in.

The healers carried him away before she could get a coherent answer from him. She was more horrified than stunned at his action. He'd plucked his own eye out, and had attempted to do the same with the other. The head healer had only paused a moment to ask how long had she left him alone, before leaving her to clean up. She would be allowed at his bedside once she had washed the blood from her skin and clothing.

The healers had Nuada bandaged and sedated when she returned to his suite. She'd heard his screams from down the corridor as the healers tried to calm him. The head healer looked at her and shook his head once she settled down beside him.

"...He kept insisting we blind his other eye." He said. "From all he said, he did not wish to be parted from you. He kept saying he belonged to you..."

"No, it was more than simply wishing to remain." She said. "He had held his son for the first time. I do not know what happened between the time I left him with the child in my arms and my return."

"You know as well as I no one could tear their own eye out in a span of moments." He frowned. "The how and why will not matter to the Council, they will insist he abdicate in favor of his official heir..."

"I know." She said. "When will he wake?"

The healer was slightly taken aback by her flat tone and quick statement.

"He lost a lot of blood, and the medicines are strong." He said. "A day or two at the least...a week at most. Then he will be very weak..."

She was holding back her emotions, it was the last thing Nuada needed was to be feeling her grief and pain.

She nodded, "I will stay with him."

"The council will also question your supposed actions, Guild Mistress."

"I know they will, I am prepared..."

The head healer nodded, departing.

Once the healer left, she put her forehead to his, tears flowing down her cheeks. Soon sobs shook her body. She knew he'd maimed himself for no other reason than remorse. She'd seen in his eye, she'd also seen fright and pain. Her hand quickly found his, intertwining her fingers with his, she held on. She held on with a will as somewhere in her own grief she fell asleep, her forehead still touching his.

Four days later...

Pen barely moved from Nuada's side, save to tend to guild business, Daincecht and a few personal needs. He had awakened only hours ago, still pleading to be blinded. The healers dosed him with poppy flower nectar and gave orders that he be dosed again if he awakened in the same state. Despite how strong the poppy was, he kept murmuring in Gaelic. Most of his words were pleas to end his pain or not to be abandoned. Then, somewhere in his drugged haze, he turned his head to look at her.

"...My heart..." He whispered his voice horse from screaming.

His eye was open, looking into the distance.

"I am here." She said softly. "I have not left you..."

"Are the stars falling..." He whispered. "They must be falling..."

It seemed a strange question, his gaze was unfocused; looking past her.

"Why would the stars be falling..."

His hand tightened its grip on hers, it had been the one constant in his sickness.

"They must have fallen...you are still at my side...I want to hold you again..." His breath was hitched. "To plant seeds in sunlight..."

She brushed at his hair with her free hand. She remembered wanting to make love to him beneath the ancient trees. It seemed so long ago she had wanted that, did she still.

"The war has taken the trees." She whispered. "And clouds from the fallen cities hide the sun."

He fell silent, his one eye now focused upon her.

"Why did you..." She reached to touch the bandage. "Do this..."

"...To atone..." His voice seemed distant. "Now I cannot be king...They cannot take you away..."

The words surprised her, though she could not be sure he was speaking coherently as he was drugged to the gills with poppies.

"...You shouldn't have done this." She said. "Your people need you."

He reached out his free hand, touching her face.

"I had to...I couldn't leave you to them..."

What came next, surprised her even more.

"I leave you now...my life ends...I will be dust..." He smiled at her, the one pupil drawn into a pinpoint. "I completed the bond...what I should have done..."

His hand slipped away, the echo of his pain caught her off guard, leaving her stunned. Then all she felt was numbness and fear.


	43. The one eyed man is king

Two days later...

Three members of the High Council arrived to hold a meeting with the maimed king. Pen had sequestered herself in her office, looking over the correspondence that had come in her absence. Her hands trembled, she could feel every echo of him since he had said he'd accepted the bond. Were there a time she wished for Lochain's advice, it was now. She wasn't going to ask Jareth, the Goblin King had his own problems with the deception he'd pulled off and explaining it to the High Council.

She thought of taking her blades to the sally and moving through some Katas before she asked after Nuada, but that changed when the head of the delegation came into her office without so much as a knock.

"...It is a grave matter that brings me to you, Guild Mistress."

She looked up. "So much that you would not knock upon my door."

"Forgive me, Guild Mistress." He said. "I wished to speak to you before the other council members brought their verdict. The healers said he took his own eye out...crushed it. I wished to confirm this."

She had known at least one of the delegation would come and ask what had happened.

"He tried to do the same to the other one before I reached him." She said. "He said it was to atone, other than the crimes he committed against me...I know of nothing he could have done such a thing for."

"There are many...crimes he must atone for. The murder of King Balor...the slaughter of the King's Ravens...raising the army...The abduction of his sister...and no doubt many more he has committed during his exile."

"These are crimes he has already been tried for...and punished."

"Quite so, and yet still rose to be king." He sighed. "...We were not told of the bond you share with him..."

"It would not have mattered, I could never be anything more than what I am."

"It matters greatly, you could have been forced to abdicate your current position...Now it is what he must do, and be at the council's mercy." He was hesitant. "I know what he has meant to my people, despite his crimes. I also know what a heart bond means...and that is the burden you bear the brunt of."

"Then you know why I do not betray it...despite what it has cost me."

"You've held the worst of his punishment at bay..."

She frowned, then nodded.

"I will advise he remain here, in exile." He said. "We already have chosen a regent, one that has no connection to either Finnas or the house of Balor."

Again she nodded, already having expected this outcome.

"Then he will be simply Nuada, Silverlance once more..."

The man frowned.

"I fear it will not be that simple, Guild Mistress." He said. "There is the matter of his mother's dower lands...and the holdings that are his birthright..."

"They will go to his sons then..."

"Son, Guild Mistress." He frowned. "The council has only recognized the son born of his union with the late queen."

She sighed heavily, "...Then why mention them, if my sons have no claim upon the lineage of Balor in the eyes of the Council..."

"Forgive me, Guild Mistress." He said. "I am being rude. You have much right to demand your sons be acknowledged, but I fear it will not happen with the present council."

She wondered if this man had simply come to irritate her in a time of dire decision.

"Then why are you here." She demanded. "To see if the human will bend to the High Council's will."

The man sputtered, "...It is a curtsy of the council..."

"My ass..." She said. "What is the real reason...tell me, council or no I will gut you and use your entrails to string the harps of my apprentices."

"...The council has been looking for a reason to force him to abdicate since the prince was born. They want a clean slate, a king with no blood upon his hands."

"It is much too late for that." She said. "The war with mankind still rages, no thanks to your council and your late Queen. What will you do when they break the new treaties or send assassins to your door..."

"The young king will be advised..."

"Advised to what, ravage what is left of humanity..." She hissed.

She was not happy with the Council being in her Guildhall. She now knew why Lochain didn't much like the council. They tended to stick their collective noses into everything.

"Guild mistress..." A voice at the door. "The other council members wish to speak with you."

She took a deep breath, "...Let them enter."

The apprentice at the door nodded, moving aside.

A moment later two other council members entered, both wearing expressions that could only be read as displeasure. She set her feet, she wasn't afraid of these men grown soft in their position.

"...Speak your verdict and leave my guild hall." She said, giving them the edge of her temper.

"Were that simple, Guild Mistress..." One of the other men said. "there is the matter of your relationship with the former king..."

She frowned, it was as she feared it had already been decided.

"Nuada and I were lovers..." She said. "Long before his marriage to the queen."

"At least you are honest, Guild mistress." He said. "There was a child of your union with the prince."

"Yes, his name is Tam Lin..."

There was some murmuring in Sindarin, then another question was asked

"did you have plans to officially wed?"

She frowned. "I do not see what this has to do with your verdict."

"It has much...now please answer the question."

"Yes, we were to be wed..."

The man nodded, then talked to his companions again. She was not liking the sound of their words. She knew a little more than they probably suspected, but the speed of their conversation made it a bit hard to keep up.

"...It is decided then." He said. "The prince will remain here until we can meet with the full council."

She sighed, as they filed out. Nuada hadn't yet been stripped of his position as king.

A short time later...

Pen brought a tray to Nuada. He sat propped up with his hands in his lap, His one eye closed. She set the tray down and reached to place her hand over one of his. He did not turn to look at her but pulled his hand away.

"...I do not wish to be touched." He said. "Not by you..."

She was slightly stunned, he had only pulled away from her touch once and that had been after he had found out she was human.

"As you wish..." She said, rising.

"It would be wise that you did not come again, human."

She let out a sigh, then turned from the room.

Nuada hung his head in his hands after Pen had left, he had not meant to be so harsh with her. He reached under the pillow beside him, pulling out a small box. He'd carried it with him almost everywhere, even during his marriage. Though at times he'd put it aside in anger it was a reminder of things left unsaid and business unfinished. He carefully opened it, inside were two bands, one a simple twist of Mithril, gold, and copper; the other Mithril inlaid gold. These had meant to be their wedding rings, made by Jareth's goblin smiths. He closed the box and held it tightly in his hand. He had a decision to make, and a short time to enact it. He summoned a guard and gave his orders.

Later that night...

Pen calmly drew her bath, adding a little scented oil to the water. She'd tucked Daincecht in a little while ago and this time was for herself. The day had been long, and she was near exhausted. Footsteps drew her attention from the bathwater. Nuada stood in the doorway, dressed in blue silk. A gown held over one arm. He set the gown gently upon the vanity.

"...What brings you into my private bathing chambers?" She said, quickly closing her open robe.

He said nothing, but advanced slowly and took the oil bottle from her hand. He sniffed it with a bit of disdain. He set it on the small shelf and chose another, repeating the process. He finally stopped on a woodsy scent and poured the content into the steaming water.

"That is expensive you know..."

He reached for her next, his grip stifling her protests as he yanked the robe off her body. He picked her up and placed her in it. It was deep enough that she stood knee-deep in the scented water.

"Wash..." He commanded. "You stink of human..."

"I am..." She protested.

"Wash." He said again. "Do not make me have to do it for you."

She saw the look in his eye, he was serious. She had never seen him this way, or this forceful.

"What has gotten into..."

He yanked the sponge from the shelf and soaped it, grabbing her arm.

"I was hoping I would not have to do this..."

He scrubbed her, near taking a layer of skin with the sponge. He forced her to sit and began washing her hair.

"What is the meaning of..."

He washed her hair with some force, tearing out strands.

Her bath took all of ten minutes, he yanked her out. A rough towel was wrapped around her and another layer of skin nearly disappeared. He held her before him, studying her. He leaned in close and smelled her skin.

"...You smell proper now." He said, his breath brushing her skin. "Now dress..."

He left her a moment and returned with the gown. It was blue, fading in subtle shades from midnight to water. She looked at him blankly, what was the meaning of all this. He held it out to her.

"I said dress..."

She took the gown and began to dress slowly, looking for a reason to run. She must have been taking too long, he spun her around and began working on lacing the bodice, pulling it tight to mold to her form. His hands brushed her hips through the fabric.

"Beautiful..." He breathed in her ear. "Even more so when I take you out of this..."

She trembled, looking for a weapon. This was not like the Nuada she knew at all. He spun her around again, looking at her hair.

"Your hair is a mess..." He said, grabbing a brush. "I have forgotten that this takes so long..."

More of her hair was yanked out as it was roughly brushed.

A few more moments and she was yanked out of the room, and down the hall. She pulled against his grip, trying to pull away. He released her, standing there. She watched a pained expression come to his face.

"...We will be wed this night." He said.

"Nuada I do not wish to...

"Silence..." He said. "I am trying to do this without being a fool." He frowned. "I'm doing what I should have done the moment I heard of Tam Lin's conception...taking you as my wife." He took her arm again. "I will not ask you to consummate our vows...I have not earned that. Come morning, I will be gone from you...I do not know when I will return." He leaned forward and kissed her temple. "If something happens to me, this will ensure my holdings go to our sons. I will not put them in the hands of the council..."

She was in shock, this definably wasn't the Nuada she knew.

"...Why now."

He paused again, looking at her before closing his eye.

"Because I could well die where I am to go." He said. "My last act as king will see peace between the humans and the Sidhe...this will be my wedding gift to you."

Her mouth fell open, she had not expected this.

"What of this morning..."

He touched her face. "I had a few more preparations to make, I wished them to be a surprise...Come, the priestess is waiting."

She followed him, wondering what the next few hours would hold.

Near dawn...

The ceremony was short and simple, pledges to love, honor and walk beside for the rest of their lives. Then he had carried her back to his chamber, her feet not touching the ground. He set her on the bed and laid a gossamer gown upon her lap. He disappeared behind a screen and emerged in a pair of light silk pants.

"For this night I sleep in your bed..." He said standing her up and holding her against him. "Let me bathe in your light, strengthen mine..."

She held him for what seemed an eternity before he released her to sit down upon the bed. He pulled back the covers for her, before moving to the other side of the bed. She slid into the cool sheets then turned to look at him. Bandages still obscured one side of his face, the other side seemed more alive and less careworn. He reached out to touch her face, the band on his finger seemed cold against her skin.

"...So many things I should have done..." He whispered. "so many mistakes I have made..."

He fell silent after that, just looking into her eyes.

She wasn't sure when his body had come to cover hers, or how their nightclothes were eventually discarded to lay upon the floor. All she could say that it was a mutual decision to touch and be touched. Their bodies became one an eternity later, both moving to the ancient rhythm of life. His release shook her to the core as she followed him into bliss and then into sleep.

She now sat at the edge of the bed wrapped in half the sheet. She'd spent the last hour looking at him, sprawled upon his back, the sheet at his waist. A few more hours and he would be gone from her as long as it took to hammer out the treaties and see that they remained in place. She knew something had changed him in the short hours between the council's visit and their wedding. Or perhaps it was the memory of someone. The council had no doubt threatened to cease his lands leaving her sons with nothing.

In the end, she knew he was trying to fully atone for his actions against her, but it would not completely erase the hurt. She watched him stir and turn to her, reaching up to pull her down to his side again.

"Come back to bed, wife." He said softly. "I do not wish to part from you on sour terms..."

She slid back beneath the covers, moving to sleep within the shelter of his arms.

When Pen woke again, Nuada was gone, only a few silver/blond hairs upon the pillow next to her. The night before had been the most puzzling occurrence, she looked at the inlaid band on her finger. At least it had not been a dream as she had feared. The door opened, and her usual breakfast was brought. A change of clothing and a basin soon followed.

"...You have visitors." Her assistant said. "They appear quite agitated..."

She allowed herself a small smile, people seemed to get irritated when she made them conform to the formal rules for meeting with the Guild's head.

Four hours later...

Pen wanted to slam every door in the guildhall. The bastards on the High Council said it would be months before both Tam Lin and Dian cecht would be recognized as heirs to the house of Balor. Even her marriage to Nuada would have to be acknowledged by the council. She was tempted to play the fact as Lochain's heir she was one of the nobles. She wouldn't, but the thought was tempting.

She set her back against the door and sighed. She twisted the ring around her finger, wondering when Nuada had acquired it. She contemplated the previous night's events, they had made love but looking at it in the light of day it was bittersweet. It seemed more need than will had come into play. Even his rough handling seemed to reflect the desperate need that filled the void between them. She hung her head and wept.


	44. Problems and solutions

In an armed encampment of Humans and Sidhe...

Nuada took each of the delegates in with a critical eye, he could see their hatreds as easily as he had set ink to Velum. The head of the human delegation frowned as he read the Complex script.

"I have had one of my loyal advisers translate the document into a common human tongue." He said. "Unlike the treaties my father enacted, the sidhe can and will enforce them..."

"How can you assure this, did you not say yourself you were abdicating once the treaties were signed."

Nuada smiled softly, he wondered what they would say when he mentioned the force he intended to use.

"I have a contract with a company of mercenaries I believe you call them." He said. "Once the treaties are signed I will finalize the contract with them..."

He let his mouth twitch more, This would solve one of Pen's problems and one of his.

"What company..."

Many mercenary companies, both human and Sidhe had sprung up in the last four years of the war.

"That I will keep to myself, I do not wish them hindered by your knowledge of them."

"Unless you tell us the name of the company I fear we cannot sign the treaties..."

Nuada frowned, he would have to bring Pen to aid in negotiations. He would have rather kept her at the Guildhall. He turned to one of the young pages, requesting parchment.

"Very well, I will have the head of the company come and hammer out the terms."

The delegation head was surprised, they had not expected to have their request met.

The Guildhall...

Pen frowned when she saw the parchment with Nuada's personal seal, thinking it was a missive saying the negotiations were not going well. She slit the seal and read, then laughed herself out of the chair. It was too perfect, too simple. Her guild was going to be the ones to enforce the treaties because they could move almost undetected among the Sidhe courts and human governments. She picked herself up off the floor and began making plans to ride into the camp in full splendor.

"...Prepare me an escort, my weapons, and fine horses...the king has summoned me..." She said to the apprentice who had come in to see her lift herself from the floor. "And summon the elders, I have something that will give them a reason to keep breathing..."

The apprentice ran off, probably thinking the Guild's head had lost her mind. She let out another peal of laughter, this was going to be so fun.

The armed encampment, four days later...

Pen rode into camp upon a black gelding in full singer's regalia, her hair was done up with jewels the size of robin's eggs. The two light side drow that accompanied her dismounted first to aid her in dismounting. One kept a close watch as the other reached up and lifted her from the saddle to stand upon the ground. The one lifting her leaned in and whispered something, she replied and the two formed rank behind her.

Nuada was much impressed, his missive had simply said she should come to show the strength and skill of her guild to the delegation of humans. Her feet touching the ground was his cue to approach her and begin introductions. She gave him a rueful smile and bowed properly.

"King Nuada..." She said, lilting her voice to hide her true tongue.

"Guild mistress..." He said softly. "You must be exhausted from your journey..."

Her expression changed, he knew very well she could ride as well as any man. She noticed one of the humans looking at her, trying to puzzle out what merc company had a woman as a leader.

"...Very much so..." She said, "If you will kindly accommodate my bodyguards..."

"Already done, Guild mistress," Nuada said. "I have arranged for your performance and formal introduction tonight..."

She nodded, "It will be a pleasure to sing for the House of Balor again...I remember fondly your father's gifts..."

Nuada raised his eyebrow, she'd only sang for his father and that had been over ten years ago.

"All the better they think I am Sidhe..." She said softly in Sindarin.

He gave a small smile, turning so the other members of the delegation could see her.

"Gentlemen, this is Guild Mistress Pen, she is the representative of the mercenaries I have hired."

Pen bowed formally, trying to hide the smirk upon her face.

"You will all get a chance to meet her formally tonight..."

He led her off toward the tent he had prepared for her and her escort.

They were out of human earshot and sight when he turned and embraced her, kissing her forehead. She sighed, her arms going around his waist.

"...I am sorry I had to bring your guild into this."

"Do not be." She said. "It solves many problems...and will ensure the lessons are learned by those who will live by them."

He looked down at her and touched the delicate chain that linked the jewels in her hair.

"...I have never seen these upon you."

"They were tribute from your father..." she said softly. "Along with my blades..."

He led her toward the tent again, lest someone come upon them.

"The last of the splendor of a once-great king." He said, leading her into one of the pavilion tents. "I will have your belongings delivered..."

"Do not let the humans open the pouch hanging from the saddle horn, I do not wish Rumor, whisper, and rhyme to be disturbed."

He smiled, he had always wondered where those three had gone after he left Jareth's kingdom.

"They still remain with you."

"Yes, but they grow old..." She said.

"Of all the Sidhe they are the shortest-lived...a century or more."

"They must have been near that when they rescued me at your side."

He pulled her to him again, holding her.

"I know what I have done cannot atone for all the crimes I have committed...but it is a step..."

She looked up into his eye, darkened with a mixture of desire and regret.

"A lot of journeys begin with a single step..."

He began to chuckle, the sound reverberating in her ear.

"...I would like you to sword dance for them tonight."

"Human or Sidhe..." She said. "And I would hardly call my Katas dances..."

"Sidhe..." He said. "They will not know the difference. Having watched the humans drill, I assure you of that."

"...It is the soldiers you don't see that maybe the greatest danger." She said. "Go back to your preparations for tonight, I have to prepare...and get out of this finery before I start feeling like a peacock on display."

He laughed softly as he stepped away from her.

"...Lay on Guild Mistress..."

She removed one of her gloves and threw it at him.

"Get out your majesty before I decide you'd be useless in this and take the throne for myself..."

He was still laughing softly when he disappeared through the tent flaps.

That night...

Pen was again dressed in finery, this more practical to what Nuada wished to present. Her hair was in a long tail adorned with simple set Jewels. She sat at Nuada's right hand, keeping a wary eye upon the members of the human delegation. They were probably trying to figure out what connection she had to Nuada, or more importantly why would an unknown Mercenary company swear fealty to a king who would soon abdicate.

When it came time for her to perform, she had already spotted the trouble makers. The ones who would no doubt attempt to slow or stop the signing of the treaties, this included the delegation head. He did not look too please that Nuada had produced the head of the "mercenaries" he intended to hire so quickly.

Her first set included several traditional songs, including a version of Tam Lin. There was no applause, only silence. It was not the first time she'd stunned an audience, but it was the first time she had performed formally for a band of humans.

She returned to her seat, her hand at the ready to draw the stiletto up her sleeve. Something about the tone of the meal wasn't right. There were too many guards among the humans. She leaned in to speak to Nuada, he acknowledged her warning by rising. He would show them that those he had chosen were more than talented voices

"Gentlemen, I should introduce the Guild mistress formally..." He said. "Send forth your best warrior..."

Pen reached up to unhook the clasp that held most of the dress to her. It fell away to reveal her most basic of tunics and trousers.

A man who stood well over six feet and could have done atlas proud with how well he was muscled. He looked slow and stupid, to Pen that meant he was doubly dangerous. She licked her lips, this would not be impossible. She stepped forward, and several laughed. How could a mere slip of a woman go up against their warrior? They obviously had forgotten the story of David and Goliath. She would keep low, give him a small target. Most didn't know what to do with someone shorter than they, it would be much speed and agility.

The man swung, Pen dropped low and landed a fast blow to his stomach. He bellowed like a bull and charged after her. She kept low, landing bows now and again upon his legs and chest. She vaguely heard the wagers being laid, most still in favor of the man. She wished for a more complex weapon other than her fists and feet. She watched the man dive for a knife upon one of the tables, she had to reach it first.

Nuada hissed in a breath as he watched Pen dodge the first strike of the blade. She did a walkover and took it to the tables. She had to reach the high table and her blades. The second swipe tore the sleeve on her tunic, leaving a line of blood. She dodged the third strike and rolled in a tight ball to the table. With a backbend, she had her blades in hand. The room fell silent as the sound of Mithril-iron scraping against ancient wood reached them.

"You want to play with steel..." She hissed, pointing her blade at the man's throat. "We'll play..."

"Enough..." said the head of the human delegation. "We have seen enough...How many in your Guild, Mistress Pen."

She kept her blade trained upon the man. "We are voices upon the wind, in every nation Human and Sidhe..." She looked at the delegation head for a moment. "We will make ourselves known when the treaties are broken...until then all your dealings with my Guild will be through me."

The man backed down, returning to nurse his bruises. Pen had a feeling this was not the last she'd be dealing with him.

Several hours later...

Pen checked the scratch upon her arm, it stung as she poured the hundred proof whiskey over it. She was wrapping it when a noise made her freeze, a shadow outside her tent. She looked to where her blades rested, just out of lunge reach.

Damn it. She hissed to herself.

"May I enter, Guild mistress..." Came a familiar voice.

She threw on a clean tunic. "Enter..."

It was the head of the human Delegation.

"I've come to make an offer...for the good of a shared people." He said. "I could not help but notice you bleed red...Those sidhe bastards don't bleed red."

She growled low in her throat.

"Be careful what you say of my chosen people..." She said.

"...I offer a princely sum to slay a king."

"You must have me mistaken for common mercenary filth." She said. "My Guild is not bought with mer gold."

"Jewels then." He held out a diamond the size of a grown man's fist. "this and more..."

"Jewels do not interest me." She said, eying her blades. "Now get out of my tent before I decide the camp truce be damned and your head adorns a pike outside..."

The delegation head huffed, "I will take my offer elsewhere..."

"Do that..." She said, then smirked. "But if anything happens to the king, your assassin will follow him..."

The man froze a moment and then disappeared through the tent flaps. She'd be sleeping with her blades from now on.

Her next visitor was more welcome, bearing mead and quiet companionship. She welcomed Nuada quietly, motioning to the camp table and stools.

"The head of the human delegation came earlier." She said, pouring two goblets. "Offered me a diamond the size of your fist for your head."

"Naturally you turned him down," Nuada said softly. "I saw him storming through the camp a short while ago. I heard a rumor that the assassin who takes my head follows me into Awarn..."

She laughed softly. "...Half of them are already thinking I am easily bought, as the delegation head's visit proves."

He brushed her hair back with gentle fingers.

"I know you are not easily swayed." He said, taking one of the goblets. "...I also know I should seek my own bed tonight..."

"You know well." She said. "Our wedding night..."

"Was mutual need." He said.

She gave him a soft smile and took the other goblet.

"...Will you be going to see Tam Lin in Maynooth?"

"When this is done."

"Then?"

"That will depend..."

"On what..."

"If the stars fall..."

She leaned into him, laying her head against his chest.

"...I know they may never fall in the time we have together, but we have two children...and perhaps a life together..."

He wrapped his free hand around her waist.

"A life together..." He whispered. "However brief..."

They stood like that for what seemed an age, drinking mead and holding to each other.

It was well past midnight when Nuada left her tent to seek his own, pleasantly intoxicated from the mead and her simple touch. He'd held her until she'd fallen into sleep against him, then tucked her into her bed of furs and pillows. He nodded to the light side Drow who guarded her tent before heading off in the direction of his own.

He paused outside his own tent, then looked up at the moon. He let out a sigh as he entered if this was all fate was going to give him with his bonded he would have to accept it. He stripped to the waist and washed, cleaning the scent of spilled mead from his skin. He'd caught the goblet that had fallen from her sleep slackened hand but not before it had spilled over him.

"...I wish you were here my old friend." He whispered into the night. "at least you would beat some clarity into me..."

He slid into a clean tunic and changed his pants. He looked at the simple twist of precious metals upon his finger, knowing he should ask her to plait his hair again. He let out a final sigh before laying down upon his own bed, but sleep was long in coming.


	45. Say friend and enter

Dawn...

Pen woke with the overly sweet taste of mead upon her tongue and a throbbing head. She looked about, somewhat regretful that Nuada hadn't fallen into bed with her. She groaned as she got up, her head reminding her that mead was not her friend. One of the drow came in with a tray and a small vial.

"...His majesty left sometime around midnight..." He said. "Headed for his own tent..."

She drank the vial's content. It would hurt, but it was the quickest way to rid herself of the headache. She let out a stream of profanity as the potion sped up the hangover.

"...When you have your head back, breakfast is on the table.."

She made a noise of acknowledgment and waved him away.

Pen appeared on the practice field a short time later, fed and shaking off the after-effects of the potion. She was having a good morning, that was until she ran into Tall, stupid and mean. He blocked her way toward the open field where she wished to practice with her blades and the spear.

"Humans only..." He hissed. "No Fey lovers..."

If it had been any other morning, she would have turned around and went to practice with the sidhe, but this morning she wanted to prove a point. She made to turn around but came back with a punch that laid him out cold.

"OWW...Fuck!" She hissed, shaking her hand. "Note to self, punch the balls next time..."

She continued on, ignoring the hostel stares she was getting. She frowned, it seemed type followed true in the human ranks. She had two approach her and try the same tactic. These two got the blunt end of her blades in their nested scabbard.

Several others came to circle her. She wasn't hungover enough to be stupid with her moves. She wasn't even going to unsheathe her blades. The first one lunged, she dodged and hit him across the bridge of his nose with the end of the scabbard. The second tried to grab her from behind, he got the blunt end in his crotch after she'd stomped on his foot. The commotion was calling more to gather around and test her resolve not to pull her blades. Bets were being slung back and forth. Her actions were drawing Sidhe as well, and all too soon Nuada and the delegation head.

"...Enough." Came the delegation head's shout. "...Put a leash on your trained Bitch your Majesty, before someone puts her down."

Pen growled low, she hadn't violated the camp truce, no steel had been drawn. Nuada looked at her then at the delegation head.

"Did any of you see the Guild Mistress draw steel?" He asked.

There were several variations on the answer "No" from the ranks. Those that won money off how fast she'd laid out each of her opponents seemed quite adamant about it.

"As you see, My "trained bitch" as you have called her, has more sense than some of your men," Nuada said. "The Guild Mistress..."

"Assaulted one of my guards..."

"Who was too stupid to know that one should not attempt to stop one of my guild." Pen said. "I appreciate your Majesty's intervention, but I can speak for myself." She drew herself up. "I have to wonder if the sidhe would like to know that some form of pond scum tried to bribe me to murder their high king."

The delegation head stammered, he had been warned by cooler heads that King Nuada inspired loyalty in his subjects despite his planned adjudication.

"Y-your a subject of Bethmora?"

"No, I am not." Pen said. "But his majesty is paying me well enough for my loyalty to make me as good as such."

Pen couldn't help but notice Nuada's half-smirk behind the man's head.

"If we have this matter settled..." Nuada said much too softly.

The delegation head nodded, he'd let this go, too much was riding on the treaties that had yet to be signed.

Later that night...

Nuada poured the mead into two goblets, Pen had come to his tent this night. He could see she was a bit pale. He had to wonder if their wedding night hadn't produced some unexpected results.

"...Are you feeling well?" He asked, taking the camp stool opposite her.

"I am fine," she said. "just a little tired of the tension in the camp."

"I do not blame you, it has been centuries since the Singers have graced any camp." He said. "I was also wondering after your health..."

"I do not know, with the stress..."

He removed the second goblet from before her. He did not wish her to harm herself if his nagging feelings had a just cause.

"Do you fear it, the possibility of another child."

"No, I would welcome it." He said softly. "It will not mend the rift between us, that I know." He frowned. "...It will become harder from here, so many do not want this peace."

"I know this." She said, rising. "but I also know you will leave the hands of your children clean of this war...all of them."

He rose to meet her, taking her into an embrace.

"The winter comes..." She said. "The season turns..."

"Yule, the night if first laid eyes upon you." He said. "You blushed at my attention..."

She laid her head upon his chest.

"let us lay together...until it is time to part." She said.

He knew she did not mean for carnal pleasure. He set down his goblet, untouched and slowly backed toward the rich furs and finely woven blankets that served as his bed.

Pen snuggled into his side when they sank into the luxury of fur and fine wool. Her hand came to rest upon his heart, he covered it with his own. They lay like that, still and quiet for long moments listening to each other breath softly.

"...Were this any other place, I would not care who would come upon us." He said. "But I must keep the pretense that you are connected only through the gold I will pay your guild."

She sighed. "...I do not think they would see us as wed, your bed warmer perhaps but nothing more."

He let out a soft sound of amusement, remembering when he'd offered to warm her bed.

"You are more than that, you have always been." He said, turning to his side to look at her. "...My father chose well the safeguard for my rule. I did not see it then, but I do now."

"Even if I must plunge a blade into your heart?" She asked.

"I would expect no less for the madness that consumed me." He brushed away a few strands of hair from her face. "I must travel a long road to be given your forgiveness, I doubt I will see its end in the years we will have..."

She touched the simple twist upon his finger, marveling that no one would realize what it meant save he. She snuggled closer, wanting to sleep.

"...Stay awake dear wife." He whispered. "I do not wish to explain why I am carrying you to your tent."

"I don't want to, not tonight..."

"I cannot let you be discovered in my bed." He said. "the balance must be..." He stopped, looking at her, there was something about her he couldn't place. "Sleep then, my dearest heart..."

He listened to her breathing even out into sleep, wishing he could follow her. He couldn't too much filled his mind.

Several hours later...

Nuada gently roused Pen from her sleep, whispering it was past midnight. She murmured something sleepily before opening blurred eyes to see him. He stroked her hair, softly to wake her further.

"...It is time to go, my heart." He whispered.

She blinked to clear her eyes, frowning.

"Tomorrow night..."

He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Tomorrow night, Go now...take care that you are not seen."

She rose and stretched, then nodded as she departed.

Pen quickly reached her own tent, having avoided most of the human guards and a few of the Sidhe. She touched the Inlaid ring on her finger, soon she would not have to hide her connection to Nuada. As soon as she stepped foot in her tent, she had the sense that something wasn't right, she should not have left Nuada.

Nuada's tent...

The one eyed king frowned, hating that he had to maintain the illusion that what stood between him and Pen was a mere contract. He heard someone outside, thinking it one of his guards until the man entered. He had forgotten something about humans, they tended to carry guns. This man had one aimed at his head.

"...So he found someone to do his dirty work." Nuada said coldly.

"First you, then that little bitch..."

Nuada knew he could not move fast enough to avoid the bullet, so sat still; waiting for an opening.

Pen's tent...

Pen felt it, something was wrong. She picked up her blades and headed back toward Nuada's tent, this time she'd refuse to leave. A guard could easily be bribed to be silent if he stumbled upon them. Then it hit her, though she had not seen many the humans must have guns. She hurried all the more.

I'm coming beloved...

No, stay away...

Two shots rang out, this only increased her speed.

She reached Nuada's tent to see three sidhe guards carrying out a human corpse. Nuada stood between the tent flaps, his hand pressed to a freely bleeding wound in his side. The other hand held the gun, he looked down at it and dropped it as if burned. He met her eyes, then turned away. She closed her eyes shaking her head. She saw more of the guard coming, then turned back the way she had come, all the better not to be seen in Nuada's presence.

Dawn...

The mood in the camp had gone from guarded to downright hostel in the few short hours since the incident. That was what the humans were calling it, the sidhe were calling it an assassination attempt. The two Drow near sandwiched Pen between them as she came to the council tent, it was becoming dangerous to even make the short journey.

When she entered, the tent fell silent. Both humans and Sidhe were looking at her if she were an intruder. She was dressed in her formal attire, in her hand was the completed contract for the services of the guild. She took note that Nuada looked pale, the usual golden undertone to his skin was missing.

"...I regret to inform your majesty, and the men of this good council." She said. "That my presence is required elsewhere." She approached and set the scroll tube before Nuada. "There are some pressing matters of my Guild that I must attend to..."

Nuada knew there were no pressing matters, it was becoming dangerous for her to be in the camp. Last night had made that abundantly clear, for she had made it no secret she was on the side of the Sidhe.

"Then your departure is unavoidable..." Nuada asked.

"Yes your majesty, it is." She said. "I will send another representative within two days, one better suited to handle the rigors of camp life..."

He nodded, as she bowed once and turned to go. The two drow trailing behind her.

Pen was saddling her horse when Nuada found her, he watched her hands tremble as she tightened the saddle girth.

"...What is the real reason you are leaving." He asked. "Last night..."

"Could have been your death." She said, not looking up from her task. "We both forgot that humans carry guns..."

He came up behind her and pulled her against him. It was all she needed to break.

"Hush, hush..." He said as she began to sob. "I survived..."

"You may not survive the next..." She said through her tears.

He held her tighter, drawing strength from her in his arms.

"They will try again, I know that." He said. "There are even those among my own men who would gladly take my life for the gold the humans offer."

She turned to look at him, touch his face, she had no words for the fear she felt. He closed his one eye and laid his forehead against hers.

"...I'm afraid." She said. "I have never been until now..."

He let his keen senses take her in, then he noticed that small spark. Their wedding night had indeed been productive. The reason for her fear clear, she was acting like a mother frightened for her child.

"Journey four days from here, wait at the Inn there. Come good or Ill I shall meet you." he promised. "we will return to your guild hall together, as husband and wife..."

They both knew it was a hollow promise, he would not leave until this was finished and she would not believe anything else.

"As husband and wife..." She said softly, reaching up to touch his temple. "four days..."

He nodded and let her go, standing unsteadily on his feet.

Four days distant from the camp...

Pen and her two drow companions dismounted silently. The Inn's stable boy came out to take their mounts. She slid a gold piece into the boy's hand. The boy beamed and lead the beasts away. She paused at the threshold to see a Sheila Na gig carved in the lintel of the door, under it in Gaelic "We remember." How long had it been since she had seen those words, the late queen had all but destroyed the humans who had loyally served Nuada.

She said the answering phrase, "that we are of one blood."

"lady Pen, are you OK?" one of the drow asked as she paused.

"Y-Yes." She said. "Just a memory..."

"As you say, lady."

They entered and the innkeeper motioned them to a table. A meal would go a long way in easing the apprehension she felt as she crossed the threshold.

Two months later...

There had been no sign of Nuada, not even a missive. But there were signs of other things. There was a kind of bittersweet joy when she found out she was again with child. She had no doubt Nuada had known when he'd told her to ride four days away. She wanted Nuada to be with her, to truly know their child.

Two weeks later...

The ancient sound of war drums awakened her, they were far down the road but their echo shook the Inn to its timbers. She went to stand on the balcony of her room. She could see torches in the distance, but no banners. Her door flew open, she spun to face one of her bodyguards.

"..Humans." He said. "Not friendly..."

She began throwing her bags together, hoping she could slip away before they arrived.

"...They have a prisoner."

She stopped, knowing just who they had as prisoner.

"... Were you able to get his condition?"

"No Guild mistress, it would be unwise to flee."

She saw the crossbow aimed at her belly. Her own had betrayed her, like no doubt they had done to Nuada.

"I'm sorry guild mistress...even we have grown weary of this war." He said, taking her arm. "They will be here shortly."

She let herself be guided, Waiting for her opening. She had been warned there were those who would gladly sell Nuada out to the humans in his own camp.

"It is a shame, you would have made a most delightful queen..."

Pen hadn't been much on being queen, not with having the Guild. The drow turned his back, a grave mistake.

She moved with all the grace and speed trained into her muscles and memory. Her former bodyguard died choking on his own blood. She would have allowed herself a smirk at the two sharpened fingernails on her third and pinky finger but she took no joy in an execution. She wiped the blood from her fingers on the drow's clothing. She had a short time to prepare before the humans came. Her first order of business was to dress and find out who was friend or fore.

The human procession...

Nuada hung from a cross beam fixed to a post by his arms. Ever now and again one of his captors would prod him with something sharp or slap his face. He knew where they were going and hoped Pen knew enough to get out before they arrived. He licked his lips, tasting his own blood. He watched the head human give orders to his men. They must have been expecting someone, as one of the leaders looked agitated. He tried to focus upon what they were saying, but he kept fading in and out of consciousness.

A sharp poke brought him back into focus, some time must have passed since he was now on his knees being held up by his hair. His arms were still stretched out across the beam. The face before him was not a happy one.

"...The little bitch stuck the bastard's head on a pike outside." Came a voice from behind him. "Every window occupied..."

He couldn't help but let himself smile at that, no doubt she had organized a "warm" welcome for any human who didn't know the password she had set up. Even at this distance, he could barely make out "The key to passage rests above you" tacked to the door.

"What is the key..." The man hissed.

Her own version of "say friend and enter" he thought. She's thinking only those who remember would understand.

A sharp slap.

"I said, elf, what is the key."

"Ask a human..." He slurred, his strength ebbing.

A second hard slap.

"I'll find the key if I have to carve it out of you."

He gave the man a look that had frozen many in their tracks before his body pitched forward under the weight of the beam.

In the darkness...

Pen had slipped away into the darkness from the back of the structure, moving carefully. Grateful now for the lessons she'd learned on how to slide from shadow to shadow. She couldn't see Nuada, but she could feel echos. The echos told her he was in great pain, perhaps even more than she sensed. She had prepared, the summoning in her memory. She would see Nuada safe in the hands of the healers and then set his plan in motion.

She knew Jareth would be a bit put out by being summoned into the middle of a knot of humans, but it was the only way to get Nuada out. She hoped she wouldn't have to take out any of the humans who passed inches from her hiding places. The echos became stronger the closer she got to where they were holding her beloved.

I'm not far... She sent, hoping he could hear her.

No, go back...leave me. Came the weak reply.

I will not leave you...

You must, for our children...

She made the choice to ignore his pleas for her to turn back, she had shattered him once with a ruse, she would not do that now.

In the Goblin kingdom...

Jareth frowned, he'd felt the tug on his awareness. It had not been that long ago he'd been summoned to the aid of Lochain, now he could feel that same type of summoning being stored in a memory. He had thought little of Nuada and Pen since they had left his kingdom over a year ago with a heavy sadness between them. Now it appeared he would be taking them in again.

He summoned a crystal, frowning deeper at what he saw. The battlefield was strewn with bodies, and one bloody figure cut a path between. He had never seen a singer like this. The dance was deadly, where before it had an ethereal grace. He vanished the crystal and called his goblins.


	46. walking the blade's edge is an uneasy peace

Moments later...

The goblin king appeared on the battlefield in all his terrible glory, his goblins rushing before him; giving the ancient battle cry. He remembered a day such as this, it had been at his father's side, defending Balor against a human army. Now he had come to the aide of Nuada, hoping to discharge his debt to the dead king and a living prince. The attacking humans screamed in terror as the goblins swelled the defender's ranks and in a flood of flesh and steel, overwhelmed them.

Cloaking himself in a glamor, Jareth began searching for Nuada, attempting to find the one-eyed king before he became another corpse among the carnage. Moving thus unnoticed, he watched the singer cut through her fellow humans with deadly grace, her blades singing a death song for many as they cut through flesh and bone as easily as butter. He could not help but be captivated by her skill, though she bore no Elvin speed, only the grace of one long trained. He could see now why Balor had chosen this human woman to stand beside Nuada. He pulled himself away from her deadly dance to continue his search.

A short while later...

Jareth found the one-eyed king, sprawled upon his face in the muck and blood. With great care, he knelt down to cut the king's bonds and lift the heavy beam off his shoulders. He lifted Nuada from the ground, shocked the elf still lived. Then he saw her, blood-stained and disheveled. Like some battle crazed furry, she charged. Perhaps because of her training or in spite of it, Jareth was able to grab her by the hair and spin her into a kneeling position with a simple movement. He knew this could not continue, not if either wished to keep their sanity.

"...Go back to your Guild Hall..." Jareth said, releasing her and frowning. "Go back and mourn...he is dead to you."

the words did not fully register as Jareth vanished with Nuada. She was left her on her knees, weeping.

Months later...

The Sidhe had won their war, despite the apparent loss of their High King. The humans quickly learned you could not keep out what had lived upon the land since time forgot. Now an uneasy peace was maintained with the aid of the Guild. Many a government learned to fear the appearance of the Blue and gray-robed delegations, for it meant some aspect of the treaties had been breached...

Pen stood on the balcony outside her suite of rooms in the Dublin Guildhall, looking out upon a spiraling garden. She had it planted shortly after her return from that bloody battlefield, thankful that nothing had happened to the life within her. She smiled at the saplings that adorned the center, each newly planted. It was a fitting memory to a man whom she'd loved dearly, the whitebark gleamed in the early morning light seeming to fill the center of the garden in an ethereal light.

She had heard nothing from Jareth since he'd vanished with Nuada and what bond they shared could not tell her if he lived or had breathed his last upon that blood-soaked ground. She laid a hand upon her belly, shortly after her return to the hall, the midwife said she was carrying twins. She felt one move, a small fist pushing for a bit more room. She was absorbed in the sensation when one of her attendants came and informed her there was a visitor.

"...A messenger, Guild Mistress...he is waiting for your reply..." The attendant said. "He's been escorted to your office..."

She turned away from the garden and headed inside, her duties now called.

The messenger seemed annoyed he'd been kept waiting for her to arrive. She moved carefully, weaving in and out of the scattered stacks of reports. She knew now why Lochain had such poor housekeeping habits, the paper never ended. She sat behind her desk, waiting to hear what the messenger had to say.

"...I've come with a formal request..." He laid a finely engraved envelope before her. "Your escort will arrive in four days..."

She looked down, running her fingers over the seal, the ancient crest of Bethmora. She carefully opened the envelope. Her hands trembling as she read the formal invitation for her to attend a Masque. A flash of fear swept through her, hoping it wasn't an invitation to sing.

"There are also garments provided for you...a seamstress is waiting to fit you to them..."

She hoped whoever had commissioned the garments knew how heavily pregnant she was. The two tiny lives within her shifted, curling closer together in response to her apprehension.

"These too were sent to you..." The messenger laid two clasps upon the desk. "I was told you were to bring them to the Masque..."

"Is there anymore to this request..." She asked, hoping he did not hear the hesitation in her voice.

"No, only that you are ready in four days when your escort arrives.." The messenger said as he rose. "I will bid you a good day, guild mistress..."

She acknowledged his departure with a nod of her head.

When the messenger left she turned to completely read the invitation, surprised to find it wasn't signed by the regent, but the High King. It seemed odd since the last she'd heard, the council's choice for the king could barely toddle and required a nanny. It seemed a little elaborate to throw such a ball for such a young child, but the wording gave no indication of who had actually sent the invitation or to the intention of the ball. With a weary sigh, she turned her attention to the small claps the messenger had left for her.

Each of the tarnished silver clasps was set with a deep blue Elven Star, the gem's setting concealing the closure. They appeared to have been part of a set meant for a bonded couple if the stone was any indication. Lochain had worn something similar to these, a memory of his lost bond mate, but those had been lost long ago in the Goblin Kingdom when she had fled from Nuada's anger. They were most likely some goblin child's toy by now.

She inspected the clasps, running her fingers over the delicate knotwork, each would conceal a bone ring securing a warrior's plait. She could almost see some ancient elven silversmith laying down the delicate bands and shaping them with a delicate hand. She set them down and touched the pendant at her throat, running her fingers down the silver shaft of the miniature representation of The Silver Lance, another Elven star-forming the leaf-shaped point. The memory of its gifting was a comfort for her, even more so now that she did not know the fate of the man who had given it to her.

After long moments, she rose. She made a note to have the chair burned after the birth of her children. It had not been made to support a pregnant woman, and one more suited to her would be replacing it. She needed to find that seamstress since it would take at least two days to properly fit the garments. She absently tucked the clasps into the pouch left for them, placing the pouch into her bodice, next to her heart.

In The Goblin Kingdom...

Nuada stood looking out into the maze that surrounded the city and castle. The suite also had an unobstructed view of the castle gardens from the south windows. He was still king, despite his maimed body and near shattered spirit. The council hadn't found anyone suitable to replace him and the nearest one wasn't even old enough to even reach the throne. Now he would again have to choose a queen to sit at his side and produce heirs.

Over the last few weeks, he tried to ignore the ache that had spread through most of his body. The bond reminded him he already had a bond mate and two children. He needed her now as if she were the air he breathed or the substance he would consume. He touched the bone ring securing the plait behind his left ear, hoping that a silver clasp would be replacing it. One of the Goblin maids had re-plaited his pale hair upon his request, only to end up with knots. It had taken one of Queen Sarah's sidhe maids to correctly plait the strands, and now two hung in front of his ears as well as behind. He let out a sigh before he once again turned his thoughts to the road that had brought him to this point.

Jareth had been kind enough to grant him this suite during his recovery though it was still not complete, he'd begun planning the intended ball as soon as he was able to sit unaided. He thought of his little singer, great with their child. He desperately wanted to spoon behind her and sleep with his hand on her belly, feeling that small being brush against his senses as it grew. Absorbed in his thoughts, he did not hear Jareth come in.

"...The ballroom is almost ready." Jareth said. "They are replacing the mirror...I had forgotten Sarah had smashed it to escape the illusion..."

"and yet still became your queen." Nuada said, "Just as the singer will be mine..."

"She will not like the title..."

He knew Pen would have preferred being named his consort rather than his queen, but he would bestow the title on her anyway. He had been a fool not to have granted her the title when he ascended the throne, instead, he had made that viper his queen and cast his little singer into the dungeons. It was a mistake he was still paying for, and would for the rest of his long life.

"She will pass the test, and the other houses will be able to see my choice."

Jareth nodded. "I have several midwives waiting encase they are any complications..."

"I pray to the gods there will not be, She is near the end of her years where she can safely bear children..."

"It was my worry with Sara as well," Jareth said softly. "Speaking of children..."

"I will go to Maynooth shortly after the ball, My son should be with his mother for the birth of his sibling...don't you think?"

Jareth nodded. "So should the father..."

Despite his preparations, Nuada had decided against attending the child's birth. He fully intended to be in the child's life though, from naming until the day he would have to bury his half-Sidhe offspring in the cold earth.

"Even though I make her my queen...I cannot, I have not earned that from her. Tam and Dian are hers, not mine..."

The Goblin King had watched Nuada torturer himself over the last few months with the unforgiven acts he had committed. He watched the High King fiddle with the twisted band on his finger, surprisingly his goblins had found it among the belongings of the camp commander.

"...Tam Lin near looks to be your mirror." Jareth said. "and Dian Cecht is clear enough of Royal blood." He sighed. "She mourns, she even had a garden planted in your memory...white trees with golden leaves..."

Nuada fiddled with the ring more, his mind drifting. She had been his heart, something he'd long denied. He'd known why she had turned from him since he had destroyed her life in the Dublin Market and cursed his own child.

"I should not have left her..." Nuada murmured. "Leave me, and thank you..."

Jareth nodded, he had other preparations to see to before the Guild Mistress arrived.


	47. small voices in the void

Two days later, the guildhall...

Pen looked up from her desk as her attendant cane in to announce the arrival of her escort. Two very human-looking Sidhe awaited her with a well-appointed carriage. She had not expected such transportation, nor the amenities that went with it.

"...The High king thinks highly of you, and wished a conveyance worthy of you." Her escort said. "The journey will take two days, we will be using the tunnels..."

She gave a soft nod, as the other held out his hand to allow her to enter. The one who helped her in hung a Pomander from the center of the roof. The smell of orange and clove filled the interior of the coach.

"The high king was informed of your last journey to a formal court gathering...no smell of horses or leather...He does not wish you to arrive Ill..."

She put her hand on her swelling belly, her morning sickness had lasted only a few weeks this time. She still would get nauseous over the most common things though.

"May I thank him personally when I am introduced...?"

Her escort gave a small smile, "if it is proper..."

She wondered what that meant, she had thanked many monarchs in the last few months. Many for coming to arrange contingents and embassies, others for their willingness to allow the guild safe passage through their lands. She settled herself back into her seat, arranging her cloak around her as her escort took the seat opposite.  
*

Two days later, the Goblin kingdom...

Jareth was there to meet the carriage, aiding her to ascend from the interior. He led her inside, ignoring the stares of the courtiers that had gathered to catch a glimpse of the Head of the Singer's guild. He would see her settled in her suite and arrangements made for the midwives.

"It is good to see you again, Lady Pen," Jareth said as he led her into his study. "I am looking forward to your attendance at the ball, did you receive the gifts the High King sent you?"

"Yes, they were gracious..." She said. "Though I doubt he anticipated I would be this huge..."

Jareth looked down to see her swollen belly, "We have midwives waiting if the need should arise."

She smiled. "I am carrying twins, I still have a few weeks before it is safe for them to be born."

The news was a bit of a shock, but Jareth knew the news would delight Nuada.

"Do you know if they will be boys or girls?"

She shook her head, "I told the midwives I did not want to know, perhaps out of fear if it is one of each..."

Jareth nodded, "You do not wish them to have the same bond their sire had?"

she nodded solemnly, "It took its toll, one I would not wish for my children..."

Jareth continued down the hall, leading her to a chamber long reserved for the High Queen. He had it redecorated to suite her rather than the former queen. He did not say anything as to why there would be plenty of time to explain his motives.  
*

After seeing Pen settled, Jareth made his way to his study. He had asked Nuada to meet him there after the Singer's arrival. The High King was seated facing the fire, fiddling with the twisted band on his finger.

"She has been settled into the High Queen's suite," Jareth said, taking the other chair. "I did not tell her your rooms were next to hers."

Nuada paused, then turned his attention to Jareth. He had known the moment the singer arrived in the castle, some of the ache he felt had eased.

"...Did she receive the gifts I sent?"

"Yes, and the precaution of having midwives ready was a wise move." The Goblin king frowned. "She is great with twins, strong and healthy from what I could tell."

Nuada closed his eyes at the word "twins." It had been an inevitability, the birth of twins once again to his father's bloodline. It also meant there were twins her bloodline as well.

"Does she know if they will be the same gender?"

"No, she has no desire to know. She only fears that it shall be one of each, perhaps perpetuating the bond you shared with Nuala..."

The high king closed his eye at the mention of his sister, now lost to him. Their bond had made them near one being and an abomination to their people. That bond had lead to his death, and to hers.

"...We will deal with that as it comes." Nuada whispered softly.

A messenger poked his head in.

"Forgive me your majesties, but I have news of great importance for King Jareth..."

Nuada rose and nodded. "I'll be in my suite..."

"...I will have a tray sent, and we can talk in peace..."

Nuada gave one last nod and made his slow way back to his chambers.  
*

A short while later...

Nuada pressed his hand to the door that separated his Suite from Pen's, saddened that only thin wood stood between him and his future queen. He could feel her there, just beyond the doorway, pacing and unpacking her belongings. He could also feel her apprehension and hesitation as if she too felt him close. He did not blame her, she had suffered so much at his hands. He wanted so to open the door, but he couldn't not without tipping his hand or the surprise of the ball. He wanted to see her face when he chose her as queen, to hold her close as they waltzed. He pulled his hand back and paced toward the window, it would only be a matter of time before all was in place.  
*

In Pen's suite...

Pen looked about the room, it was fit for a queen. How ironic it more fit the status she would have held had she been wed to Nuada so many years ago. They had only a few months of being truly bonded, so brief before they were torn apart again. Now she was left to mourn him, dead or not. She passed an ornate door, no doubt connecting her suite with another. Something about it drew her to press her hand against it.

She could feel a presence on the other side of the door, plucking at the strand of spider silk the connected her to Nuada. He was in the castle, somewhere close for her to feel him as a soft caress against her body. She pulled her hand away, not ready to face the possibility that it was just an echo left from his presence in the room beyond. She turned away, hoping attending the ball would answer all her questions.

In a vase on the mantel were four tightly curled buds of deeply golden colored roses, the very same as Nuada's eyes when shaded with emotion. She knew better than to touch them, having seen the roses Jareth grew in his gardens. She wondered if setting them in her suite had been Jareth's idea or someone else.

"...I thought you would like roses." Jareth said, standing in the doorway. "Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you. The High King is also staying in this wing, I was going to finalize some minor details of the Masque with him."

"Are they Golden Goblin?" she asked softly, having half expected the Goblin king to make sure she was truly settled. "I had forgotten how unique they were..."

"No, those grow deep in the private gardens and detour thieves and assassins from the royal wing. These were bred to resemble them, but without their unique enchantment. They were a special project of mine, they are called "Lady Sara." I bred them for Sara while I was courting her." He smiled. "Now Sara insists a vase of them be in every occupied guest room, as a reminder not all is as it seems."

Pen gave him a weary smile before reaching out to touch one of the golden buds, the scent was vanilla and peaches.

"Nuada's eyes were this color, darker when he was angry..."

He could see that his advice to mourn had been taken to heart, she did truly mourn the man she had loved.

"...I do not think he would wish you to lose yourself in sadness, Guild Mistress."

"I've mourned so many times, from the night he stole away our son to the last battle...It hardly seems that I have stopped." She sighed softly. "Perhaps with time..."

"What would you do to have him back..."

Pen gave a small bitter laugh before her Jareth vanished and it was the Goblin King who asked. She remembered refusing his offer before.

"I will not ask you to reorder time, or move the stars...those would come with too high a price...I would have paid it once, but not now." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Though I love Nuada, alive or dead, it would be cruel to..."

"...To rip apart what possible life he may have made in your absence." It was Jareth again. "Did he not do this to you..."

She turned and put her hand on Jareth's arm, shaking her head.

"Where ever he may be, he knows my forgiveness comes with as high a price as one of your wishes. That in itself is enough for me to refuse your offer, Goblin King."

It was Jareth's turn to laugh, "...Then I will not ask you again." He stepped away from her touch. "I must finish my business with the High King, so I will bid you Good day, Guild Mistress..."

She nodded and turned back to study the roses.  
*

Jareth's study...

Nuada sat beside the fire again, waiting for Jareth. He had heard much of the conversation between them, it was good to hear she loved him still. A glass appeared at his elbow, filled with a peach tinted wine. He looked up to see Jareth take the seat beside him.

"...I was hoping you would have waited in your chambers." Jareth said. "Our conversation would have been brief and you would not have had to leave the spells woven about the room."

"I did not wish her to hear my voice just yet..." Nuada said. "I do not wish to break her heart further..."

"Then you know her feelings on the subject of you."

"Quite well. I wronged her, near murdered her child several times over...I near murdered..."

Jareth watched Nuada go silent, this had happened several times over the last few weeks. It was as if the truth of his actions were hitting him all at once and held a terrible burden.

"...It is no simple thing." Jareth said. "To admit a wrong."

The High king rose from the chair, he suddenly looked very old. It was as if the Sidhe king would crumble if he took a step.

"I would only atone for one," Nuada said, his voice matching the aged state he seemed to have fallen into. "...I will leave the final preparations to you, I must return to my chambers..."

Jareth watched him take two steps before he fell, the hard smack of flesh on stone seeming to echo through the study. A soft moan came as Nuada tried to lever himself up and failed. Jareth let him attempt it again before going to aid him.

"You should have remained in your chambers like I asked, you have not finished healing..." Jareth admonished.

Nuada said nothing as Jareth eased him back into the chair, a large bruise would begin adorning the side of his face in few moments.

"...I need her." Nuada whispered. "The bond...I need her..."

Jareth frowned, it seemed with the singer's arrival the bond was now exerting its presence quite painfully.

"...I will bring her, but you must remain here until I do."

"Have no worry about that..." Nuada managed. "...Hurry...please..."

Jareth gave Nuada's shoulder a soft squeeze and hurried toward the high Queen's chamber.

Pen was waiting for him, her healer's kit setting on the small table near the hearth. Her back was to him, looking out the south window. She had felt the painful tug upon the bond the moment Jareth had departed, a sure sign Nuada was close.

"...I know he's here, I felt him a short while ago." She said, not turning around.

"Then you know how much he needs you..."

She did not answer, she had mourned her prince as if he were dead and in many ways he had been.

"...I...Can't..." She said. "Too many times he has shredded my heart...I can't..."

Jareth turned out of the room, feeling as if he was going to sign the High king's death warrant.

Nuada knew she would not come to him, not after all he had done to sunder the bond that was to have replaced the one with his sister. He took in pained breaths, tasting his own blood as he did so. He only nodded to the Goblin King when he returned empty-handed. It only seemed fitting a second bond would once again send him into the Summerlands. This time he knew none would call him back.

"...Tell her...I'm..." The taste of blood grew sharp against his tongue. "...She will...know..."

athair...let go...she needs you too...just let go... two small voices, one female the other male. please athair...mother needs you too...

A mix of delight and fear slid through him even as the ache took a demon's grip on his heart. The two voices continued to beg as near-silent steps paused outside the door. He felt a gentle hand on his bruised cheek a moment before pain and darkness consumed his world.


	48. bonding threads

Pen rose from beside the chair, with Jareth's aid. Nuada had slid into a near painless reverie at her touch, so starved was their bond. After a moment of staring at Nuada, she turned, her sob trailing behind her as she fled into the corridor. Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and summoned the Royal Guard to take the unconscious king back to his chambers with orders to see him comfortable. Then with a heavy sigh, he turned to go find the distraught future queen.

He did not have to go far, she was standing before one of the stained glass windows that let light into the corridor. She wasn't crying, just staring out the window at the sky. It seemed for the moment her tears had dried up. It also seemed ironic that the glass depicted his and Sara's wedding day.

"...I don't know if I can do this anymore, he has hurt me so much..." She said, her voice betraying her emotion. "and yet I cannot leave him to die..."

He had seen what became of heart bonds when the full weight of it was born by one alone. Some could only bear it a short while, she had born it for almost two decades. The fact that she was still sane was remarkable.

"Thus is the nature of the bond you share with Nuada," Jareth said. "But you know this already..."

"Yes, and have carried the burden of it alone for a very long time...even when he..."

Jareth could see the small pouch held in her hand, no doubt containing the clasps he had recovered. He watched her turn the pouch in her fingers as if weighing her choices.

"It was not fair..." She said, the tears returning to her voice. "Why for once can't it be fair..."

He had heard much of unfairness from Sara so long ago and knew for mortals, life was rarely fair. In the next instant, she was clinging to him, sobbing so hard she shook. It was all he could do to hold her in one place so she didn't flee again, he didn't want to have to search the castle for her. He let her sob out her tears against the linen of his tunic, rocking her gently.  
*

A long while later...

Jareth quietly summoned the guards to take the now sleeping Guild Mistress back to her chambers and tucked into bed. He frowned at the large wet blotches on his tunic, still feeling the taste of Pen's grief in the air around him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose again, silently cursing Balor as he headed for his chambers to change into something that didn't feel like a wet marsh.

Sara watched Jareth stride across their suite to the wardrobe, tossing his damp shirt into the hamper. She was curious as to how it had gotten that way. She went to the hamper and picked it up.

"...One of the goblins run into you with an ale barrel?" She asked, holding up the soggy linen.

"No," He said, pulling on a dry shirt. "The guild mistress used me to dry her tears, I was lucky no one came upon us." He ran his hands through the unruly strands of his hair. "The present abounding rumors are bad enough..."

"...Poor goblin king..." Sara teased, though she hated the rumors as much as he. "Can't even..."

He strode up to her, taking her in an embrace, spinning her to pin her to the bed. He loomed over her and brought his face close to hers.

"I would have care to what you say, Wench." He said mock menace in his tone. "Or I won't let you play with my riding crop..."

Sara let out a squeak as he pinned her down, followed by giggles of laughter since he appeared so serious.

"...Fun aside." Jareth said, letting her laughter be a balm over his exasperated emotions. "...The events of the previous hours do not bode well, the bond is extracting a high price on both the king and the Guild mistress..."

Sara let out a sigh, reaching up to brush a few unruly strands away from Jareth's face. In all their married life, she had never seen him so determined to fulfill a request.

"You said it would." She shook her head. "How close is she to due, actually?"

He rolled so she was on top, "With any luck, after the masque..." He let out a groan. "We might have to..."

"No, It will only cause more rumors to fly." She said. "I do not think there need to be any more rumors flying around..."

He gathered her to his chest, letting out a soft sigh. The rumors that the Guild Mistress was his lover were bad enough, he did not need those saying he had poisoned the king to keep her his own.

"What have you heard?' He asked, wanting to know exactly who was saying what.

The court tended to have loose tongues around Sara, having been mortal she was beneath most noble's notice. Sometimes he thought he should have made her his spymaster and not Hoggle.

"Some of the usual, but the most damaging ones are coming from that woman..."

He let out a low growl, he knew exactly who Sara meant. The woman had never forgiven him for executing their son, though by the rights of the Goblin kingdom he had committed treason.

"She's no doubt said I have brought the High King here so I may remove him from the line of succession..."

"Much along those lines..." Sara said. "and that you will place one of your bastards on the throne..."

He sat up. "That bitch...I've acknowledged each and every one of my...damn..."

Sara knew Jareth kept a tight leash on his temper, especially when it came to the personage in question. She watched him rub the bridge of his nose again, trying to stave off an overload headache.

"...Do not let her get under your skin again, removing her is as frustrating as removing fleas from Ambrosius..."

Jareth let out a laugh, it was true enough the little fox's steed had a bad habit of harboring them.

"Wise as always..." He said. "We can make some excuse as to why the High King is not able to attend, and the Guild Mistress need only make an appearance. I will deal with that woman and her rumors, even if I must take the matter to the council..."

Sara nodded, laying her head against his shoulder. He held her like that for a very long time.  
*

Two days later, Pen and Nuada's rooms...

Pen sat upon the window seat looking out into the hedge maze and the Labyrinth beyond. Her hand stroking her belly. The tears leaving tracks upon her face. Every now and then she would look over to the large bed where Nuada lay in deep reverie. She had opened the door connecting their rooms a short while after Jareth had her returned to them. The two little sentient beings were worried as they each moved for a little more room.

Don't cry Mathair...

"I'm not crying little ones..." She whispered, using her free hand to wipe away the moisture seeping down her face.

Athair is crying...loud...make him stop...it hurts...

She made a soothing noise before carefully rising. Her back ached, she absently rubbed the spot.

"I know it hurts, mathair will make it better..." She whispered as she reached the bed.

Nuada turned his body toward her, already sensing her presence. She spoke silent thanks to whoever had put the small stairs to aid in climbing in. She reached out to touch him, his hand came to twine with hers. His eye opened, the pupil drawn to a black dot in the iris. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

"I am here..." She whispered, placing his hand on her belly. "We are here..."

"Do not...leave me..." the words were dry as old leaves. "Please...do not...leave..."

The pain in her back grew sharper, sending a ripple over her belly. She made a noise of pain, his face echoed it as the pupil widened slightly.

Athair...

Nuada murmured something in that dry as leaves voice, then closed his eye. His hand went limp in hers.

Athair sleep now... The male. Athair won't hurt mathair any more...

Pen watched as all the color drained from Nuada's face as a small trickle of black blood flowed from one nostril.

"No...please...no..."

Pen sat bolt upright in her bed, the terror she had felt all too real despite the dream. It took her a few moments to realize she wasn't in her room at the guildhall, but in the Goblin King's castle. She put her hand to her belly, the two were agitated. She did not blame them for the intensity of the dream.

Mathair... both spoke in fearful tones.

It is ok little ones, Mathair just had a bad dream...

She got out of bed, groaning. She was drawn to the door and placed her hand upon it, he was there. The events in the Goblin king's study short hours before confirmed it. She moved to turn the knob, wanting to see for herself.

No, do not.

A hand as pale as moonlight covered hers, there was a solidness against her back. The ghost slid his arms around her. This was the first time in many years he appeared before her thus.

Why...

because I am here, with you...not in that rotting shell.

Athair...

Hush, everything will be alright now...

She barely felt herself be pulled back from the door and tucked into bed.

Sleep little songbird, your falcon will guard you well...

She drifted back, with the soft sensation of breath upon the back of her neck and a comforting hand upon her belly.  
*

Dawn...

Small fingers of light creeping across the floor woke Pen from her slumber. She eased herself up from the bed. She turned to find it empty of all save herself. It was much as she suspected, a ghost of moon glow and starlight. Hear head ached, she knew mostly from her tears yesterday. She rubbed her temples, she felt like she had drunk goblin ale. She tried to ignore this as the two little ones decided to have a jumping contest on her bladder.

Fresh clothing awaited her after she had tended to her body's needs. A fool's scrap lay on top along with a key. The scrap indicated it was for the door separating her room from Nuada's. She dressed and went to open the door, this time no ghost came to stop her from opening it. The door swung open to reveal the rooms beyond and the presence she'd so longed to feel.

The sight of Nuada laid out upon the bed greeted her. The only indication he wasn't dead was the soft rasping breaths that reached her. Whoever had been watching over him had been kind enough to have a meal set out for her. She largely ignored it in favor of going to Nuada, she wanted to touch him; to make him real and not a ghost.

His hand was chilled when she finally reached the bed to touch him. His breathing eased only a little when she curled her fingers around his. His face was so pale as if it had been dusted corpse white. She prayed she was not too late and that this was not a rotting shell as the ghost had said. His head turned and his eye opened, an expression of relief met her gaze. A hitching breath escaped his lips. She could see how much effort he was making to speak.

"Don't..." She whispered softly. "I am here..."

He painfully turned to face her, his face tight in pain.

Bind me...bind my hands...hold them tightly...

The request surprised her, but she held his hands tightly between her own as a shudder flowed through him. She felt something shift and a lessening of the constant ache she felt. His body shuddered again, and a sob escaped his lips. She felt silken tendrils reach out, asking, almost pleading for her to accept them.

Let me carry your burden...let me take my share...

She realized how hard she had been holding on as the tendrils found the holes left by their long absence. Another hitching breath, this one escaped her. She felt him, his awe and wonder at feeling her.

Athair... The feminine voice.

One of his hands slipped from hers to lay on her belly His touch was feather-light.

All is right now...Athair made it right...

Athair, Want to see you...athair hurt...

I know little ones...there is time yet...grow stronger...I will be well soon...

Pen reached to stroke his hair, feeling his hand grow slack in her other one. The reverie had claimed him once more.

Jareth came to see the couple around mid-day, finding Pen sitting uncomfortably in the window seat. Nuada was still held in the reverie, breathing softly now compared to the night before. He had not expected to find the Guild mistress in the High King's chambers.

"...You weren't meant to find out he was here until the Masque..." Jareth said quietly. "I should know better than to try and fool one with such a bond as you and Nuada."

"It wasn't until I felt him fading...what is done is done Jareth, as you would say."

He let out a sigh. "...Will you still attend?"

She had the pouch in her hand, cradling the clasps.

"...I will...if only to silence the wagging tongues."

Jareth shook his head, having forgotten she was mortal and thus beneath the notice of most Sidhe.

"There is only one tongue you will need to silence..." He said. "a certain lady who thinks I would betray my king..."

Pen had heard of this woman, mostly from court gossip over the last few years. It had been her who had dredged up the rumor that she was Jareth's lover and the two she carried were his by-lows.

"...How would you like her silenced...Perhaps iron in her wine...or an asp in her bed."

For a moment Jareth was shocked, then remembered the singers weren't always neutral observers or healers.

"...A tempting offer Guild Mistress, but I think your presence in the formal garb of the Royal house will go a long way..."

"...I'm kidding, I'd just cut her tongue out..." She said, looking at her nails. "Or I should let her cut her own throat with that sharp and hateful tongue..."

Jareth let out a low chuckle, "Oh I think she'll be doing plenty of that once you appear at the High King's side."

"That alone may silence many tongues, but Nuada doesn't currently have the strength to even sit up on his own..."

Jareth looked to the bed and then back at the singer, he sensed something had changed.

"...He took some of the burden." She said. "It taxed an already weakened body, even if it silences the ache we both have felt..."

"I will have my personal healer look after him and have the spells strengthened..."

"Haven't you been doing that for weeks now..." She sighed. "I'm sorry Jareth...This is not how I wished to know he still lived."

"Nor did he wish you to know this way," Jareth said softly, then changed the subject. "I have commissioned ivory settings for your hair adornments...uncut rubies wait for your approval..."

"I would rather have them set with ebony settings..."

"The Royal colors are bone and red...black is the color of the crown prince..." Jareth said. "You are to be queen..."

She looked down at the pouch she held. "...I would rather stand at his side in my guild robes..."

"We have a week before the masque, it will be hard enough to get the gems set properly " Jareth shook his head. "The king will also have to be strong enough to make the declarations before the assembled guests..."

She looked over at Nuada. "...He will strengthen because he must..."

Jareth knew this to be truth and gave a simple nod. He decided to diplomatically leave, he could discuss the final details for the masque in a day or two.

"...I believe there is a meal that is getting cold in my study, I will leave you..."

She gave a nod and went to sit beside the bed, much was needed to be done.


	49. Before the ball

In the week before the ball...

Pen kept a constant vigil at Nuada's side, only leaving to attend to her needs and be fitted for her gown. The jewels for the delicate net that would vale her hair sparkled like drops of blood set among ivory settings, linked by coppery red gold. She turned from the mirror to look at Jareth as he advised the seamstress upon the color of her dress.

"...You look lovely Guild Mistress." The seamstress said as she adjusted a seam.

"You'll silence any waging tongue, that is for sure," Jareth said. "You look like a queen..."

She shook her head, making the jewels flash in the sunlight. "I have no wish to be queen, only my beloved's consort."

"Of that, you can be assured," Jareth said. "He wanted you well-tended, even if you refused his offer."

She turned back toward the mirror to look at the delicate net, for a moment she saw the reflection of a woman who resembled Nuada.

"...It should be you wearing this..." She whispered to the reflection as it faded.

"What M'lady?" The seamstress asked.

She turned, "Nothing." She said softly. "I was thinking aloud."

The seamstress nodded, accepting the answer. Jareth was not so sure it was just thinking aloud.

Jareth made a visit to Nuada two days before the ball to update him on the preparations for the masque and coronation of the High Queen. Nuada, still unable to sit upright on his own, was propped up upon many pillows and bolsters. If any of the other nobles saw the High King so weak, it would not bode well.

"...The crown will not sit easy upon the head of your queen." Jareth said softly while Nuada starred out the window. "but you know well of this..."

"Well enough, she well-preferred her songs to the dance of nobles," Nuada said. "I often wish I could have remained in Haladar's Lands, raised my sons properly...I knew peace then..."

"As I wish I could have remained in my Gardens," Jareth said. "Then again, I know peace every time I lay next to my wife."

Nuada turned his head, shaking it gently. "I meant my folly would not have brought my beloved such pain..."

Jareth frowned, "You lament your actions toward your sons..."

"Some days with every breath," Nuada said softly. "I would that Lin did not think me a monster...that Dian would not be blind..."

It was the Goblin King who answered: "What price will you pay to turn time upon its head, High King..."

Nuada closed his eye, "One I could not pay with a good heart..."

Jareth returned. "Wise choice, your heart is black enough."

"She would have agreed with you..."

Jareth was left to wonder if Nuada meant the guild mistress or Nuala.  
*

Two days later, Hours before the masque...

Nuada felt like an overgrown doll as he was dressed by the attendants Jareth had lent him for this night. A small buzz of amusement slid over the bond he now fully held to his little songbird, a reminder that both Jareth and Sara were no doubt undergoing the same process with their own attendants. He sent a feeling of warmth and acknowledgment back, though the discomfort he felt would have normally overwhelmed that feeling.

"We need to attend to your hair, your majesty." said one of the goblin-sidhe maids.

He made a weak attempt to shift so they could attend to his near waist-length hair. The maid ended up gently pulling the strands from behind him. He hated being so weak, it made him feel even more like a doll.

"Lady Pen is no doubt undergoing the same thing," Jareth said as he entered. "I've made arrangements for you to be in the ballroom beforehand...so no one will know how weak you are."

He gave a slight nod, it was as planned. "And for my Queen?"

"The birthing room is already prepared." He said. "Tam Lin arrived from Maynooth this morning, Dian from the guildhall, the elder of your sons looks as if he'd have rather come for your funeral."

This too Nuada had planned for, he would have gladly had it be so when it came to atoning.

"I do not blame the boy," Nuada said. "He is happy there, what of Dian Cecht?"

"He has not said much, but like most apprentice singers he does not waste breath on words where a note will do," Jareth said. "He takes after his mother in that respect..."

He frowned, the memory of those strange Milky Jade eyes reminded him of the heavy price that came with an ill-placed curse.

"Does he share Lin's sentiments?"

"As I said, he has not spoken much," Jareth said. "A trait I'm sure he also shares with his sire when in contemplation."

Nuada let a smile play at his lips with that barb, he'd spoken much as of late.

"I doubt he even knows how to hate me," Nuada said. "For him, there has always been darkness..."

"He can hate, of that I am sure," Jareth said. "Even despite the darkness." He let out a breath. "I had the queen's regalia brought."

The soft tap of a cane upon stone announced another presence in the room. Nuada dared not turn for fear of the boy's hatred.

"...I-I was told my sire was here..." The voice was hesitant, soft. "M-may I e-enter..."

"Enter young singer..." Jareth said. "and be welcome."

The soft pad-tap, pad-tap said the boy approached, hesitant as his voice.

"Atar..."

Nuada turned, Dian's eyes were closed sealing off their diluted jade hue. Something he was silently grateful for, he needed no more reminders of his folly this night.

"I am here," Nuada said softy.

"Atara becomes queen today..."

"Yes," Nuada said. "And you shall be a prince..."

He watched the boy frown, so much like his mother.

"Atara said I was born one...but my eyes..."

Nuada felt his heart stop for a moment, but sealed it off from the bond not wanting to trouble his bond mate.

"Dian Cecht." Nuada said, his heart grinding into even smaller pieces. "You may not rule, but it does not mean you are any less of my blood."

The boy reached out his hand, so much like his mother's. Nuada almost puled back at the boy's touch, not wanting to burden his son further. Jareth laid a steadying hand on Nuada's shoulder.

"Let him know," Jareth said.

The touch was light, a healer's touch. The boy's face showed wonder, his fingers skimming the royal mark, then the scars where his sire had pulled his own eye out in madness.

"Atara said you hurt y-yourself..." his voice was hesitant again.

"Many times over." Nuada murmured.

"Why didn't Atara heal you?"

It was a question he'd not been prepared to answer, not to his son or himself.

"She could not, and it cannot be healed," Nuada said.

The heavy tread of one in armor made Dian Cecht move back, turning his face into a deeper frown.

"I see you've found our sire..." Tam nearly spat, from the doorway. "I hope you know now what kind of monster he is..."

"I-I did." The boy's hand curled into a fist. "H-he is n-not a m-m-monster."

"Spoken by one who does not know him."

Nuada wondered if the boy's stutter was from the curse or a natural part of his speech.

Jareth moved to block Tam's accesses to the room, the elder young man's hate had no place in it. Nuada could almost taste the ash of that hate on his tongue.

"Stand aside Goblin, I would have words with my sire."

Jareth shifted his stance. "Your not welcome..."

"Let him pass, Jareth," Nuada said. "As I said, he has a right to his hate."

Jareth moved aside, frowning as the armor-clad young man pushed passed him.

"If you did not share a bond with my mother I would rend you into a thousand pieces."

Nuada said nothing, nor lifted a hand to those words. He could not, another reason to hate his weakness.

"And I would gladly bow to the blade," Nuada said. "You have all the reason in the world to hate me."

"Hate, Atar is such a mild word for what I feel for you..." He hissed. "I will serve your court, but no more...for I am not your son."

With that Tam turned on his heel and marched out, leaving Dian Cecht shaking his head.

"B-brother h-h-hates s-s-so m-much." Dian stammered, frustrated at himself. "D-damn."

"And I have earned that hate," Nuada said. "Perhaps it is best you go to prepare yourself..."

"I-I w-will..."

He left, the pad-tap echoing down the hall.

"I doubt the way he speaks is because of what you laid upon him," Jareth said. "Many young singers stammer coming into their power.

"It began when He tried to touch me...I doubt Tam's presence helped though."

There was a twinge from the bond, no doubt Pen had caught a drifting of what he felt.

"We need to get you to the ballroom," Jareth said, thinking it prudent to get the High King in the ballroom quickly. "Before the guests arrive."

"Yes...before the guests arrive..." Nuada said, touching one of the plaits that had been restored to his hair.

After seeing Nuada was settled in the ballroom, Jareth went to check up on the Guildmistress. He found her looking down at the delicate net made for her coronation as High Queen.

"Your sons arrived." He said, approaching where she sat.

"I felt Nuada's reaction to Tam Lin," She said. "My son does not understand, he only knows his sire abandoned me for another who looked upon him with contempt."

"You should get ready," Jareth said signaling the maid to adorn Pen's hair. "You have tongues to silence and a king to make whole..."

She bowed her head as the net was laid over it, perhaps already feeling the weight of a crown.

"The crown already weighs heavy." She said. "and I have not yet put it upon my head..."

"That is only one cost," Jareth said. "...There are midwives if you should need them."

She let herself have a small smile. "...they will come if they choose."

"He worries, then again you can feel that."

"I do, I also know the price paid for that knowledge..."

"I suspect you have always known," Jareth said. "Even before he bound his life to you."

"...Do not tempt me," She said softly. "I have come to know the goblin king when I hear him."

Jareth let out a sigh. "Do you still see the dark..."

"How can I not." She said. "I no longer see his death..."

"what do you see My queen." The goblin king whispered.

Pen shook her head, groaning as she rolled from bed. Another dream, and puzzle.

It was still a few days before the masque and the dream was vivid enough to set the small ones into a minor panic. She felt Nuada weakly lay a hand upon her swollen belly.

"...You dream too deeply songbird..."

She let herself lean into that touch, knowing what she had seen was all too real. She laid her hand over his as the two small minds settled back into sleep.

"...They worry for us." He said, absorbing the feel of her touch. "It is not good for them..."

She had become aware that the twin's agitation was from far more than a dream.

Atar not well...

Atar sick...

She reached out to touch Nuada's face, her fingers met sweat and damp hair.

"Let me get the healers..." She said, knowing he'd only insist it was nothing.

"No...stay with me." he said, "Let me rest..."

She knew this was not good, not when the ball was only a few days away.

"You're burning up," She said, her healer's voice boding no argument. "I am going for the healers, I will not let tongues wag that the High King did not attend his own ball..."

He gave her a weak smile, before closing his eyes.

The healers did not sugar coat what was wrong with the High King, not to Pen. She sat quietly as the head healer measured out what looked and smelled like hoof scrapings into his mortar.

"...He should not have taken the bond in his condition," The healer said. "But no doubt he knew this, his concern for you and the unborns has been all that has been on his lips since his arrival in Jareth's castle."

"No doubt." She said softly. "And you intend to give him that as "punishment"?"

"No, this is for a goblin who seems a bit peaked." He said. "What his majesty needs is rest, though, with the Masque so close, I doubt he will gain it."

"Jareth is hosting..."

"In the High King's name, but most of the guests do not know this." The healer smiled. "They still believe that the High King is to be their host, though most of the staff know otherwise."

"And you are one so privileged?" she said softly.

"I must be, I am tending to the High King." He said, pouring what was no doubt something foul into the mixture. "And to his queen."

She smiled. "I am not so yet."

"Believe as you wish," He said, reaching for a bottle "Have him drink this, it will give him a bit of rest before he must be high king again."

She uncorked the bottle and sniffed, "Dark chocolate and poppy?"

"For pain, his body is still healing." He frowned. "And the strain of the bond has complicated some aspects and accelerated others."

She raised an eyebrow "such as?"

"That I have not fully assessed," He said, "but it should not impede his appearance at the Masque..."

Pen wondered if this was true, then again the powerful combination was not unheard of for one as ill as Nuada.  
*

The next day…

Jareth watched Pen pace back and forth, though in her condition it was more waddle than pace. This gave the goblin king little amusement though, as the agitation was more or less over the already wagging tongues of the arriving guests.

"…I really hate arstos." Pen said as she paced. "They know not when to shut up about their…"

"Superiority?" Jareth inquired. "Or their contempt?"

Pen stopped and sighed. "Both and neither."

Jareth raised an eyebrow.

"They look at me and do not see a Singer or even the head of a guild, only a human." She shook her head. "One they would gladly have in your bed and not Nuada's."

"I see," Jareth said. "And would there be a source to such rumors?"

"Yes, and I'd like to pull her tongue out and feed it to that yapping creature she keeps with her."

"I know of whom you speak," Jareth said. "She has been a thorn in my side for ages, I never should have agreed to the political alliance with her house."

Pen heard much regret in his words. Then she remembered the prisoner he'd brought to the guildhall.

"The execution you asked of Lochain…"

Jareth nodded. "…I owed him for his betrayal, but in the end, he was still my son."

Pen sighed. "…I was at the guildhall when it happened. I watched you depart…"

Jareth shook his head. "That is not why you came to me, to rehash old wounds."

"No, It is not." She said. "The rumors are bad enough, but there is a maliciousness to them that is far beyond simple spite. The ones that say you intend to slay the High King seem to have stronger wings than most…"

Jareth had heard those rumors for the last several years and knew well who had planted that particular worm in the gossips' ears.

"...I will deal with the gossipmonger. Seeing you with the queen's crown upon your head will silence the rest."

"I do hope so…" Pen said, turning to return to the Queen's suite.

Later that day…

Nuada took slow deep breaths, even sitting was an exhausting choir, made worse by the stiff brace the healer insisted upon to give the illusion he was sitting on his own. He extended his senses to his bond mate, her calm eased some of the burdens.

"…In four day's time, you will be my queen." He said softly. "And no one will dispute my choice."

Pen smiled. "That can be a lifetime away."

"And I could live twice over with you at my side." He said. "…I hate this, I should not be so weak…"

"Your body has taken more than it's share of pain…" Pen said. "And you've carried a heavier burden than I these long years."

Not for the first time did he regret the gulf that still stood between them.

"…Now I have taken my share." He said. "Jareth has made arrangements for me to be in the ballroom before the guests arrive. I would that you be beside me."

"…and I shall." Pen said. "Tam and Dian will be arriving tomorrow…"

He nodded, "Tam still hates me, not only for my abandonment of you…"

"And Dian knows you not." She said, rising from the chair beside him. "Give them both time, Tam will serve if nothing else. Dain knows where he walks…"

"And what do they say of the two you carry?"

"Tam is ever fussing, much like his father at times." She smiled at him. "Dain is eager to have other siblings…"

He reached over and touched her belly, sighing as the little ones crashed against his awareness.

Atar…

He sent a wave of love, feeling them settle into quiet again. Her hand covered his, knowing he was feeling the apprehension of the two little minds.

"…They are eager to know the world." She said. "As their elder siblings were…"

He smiled. "And I am eager to meet them."

She leaned forward, kissing his temple. He let out a soft noise, wishing only to be released from the brace and rest.

"Let us get you out of that thing and get some rest."

He nodded, "I will need to rest, but I cannot let the court know of my weakness."

Pen returned to her seat, watching for the signs that would indicate weakness to an outside observer.


End file.
